They leave so much, they give so much Our Missionary Corps.
They love so much, they bear so much And yet go back for more!
You'd think they'd say "Enough's enough!" And seek for better fare.
But these great souls no limit set They go ... because they care.
The desert sun, the pot-holed roads The mud and mildewed shoes.
All these light trials are brushed aside To gain the life they lose!
Their offspring off to boarding school... Commitment's greatest cost.
But worth it all the Shepherd's words, "I've found my sheep long lost."
Go to ye rich ... now weep and howl You'll reap as you have sown.
Moth eaten robes and hoarded gold Will witness at His throne.
But he who plants with tears and pain At harvest season sings
When heathen tribes, redeemed, proclaim, "The Lord hath done great things!"
They love so much but gain so much Our Missionary Corps.
For God gives back with measure full Heaped, pressed, and running o'er!
© Morris Williams