I Stand at the Door and Knock

I Stand at the Door and Knock

In the hush of twilight’s tender glow, where shadows weave their quiet spell,

There sounds a call, both soft and low, a voice no tempest can dispel.

“I stand at the door and knock,” He speaks, the Savior, clad in grace,

His presence near, His mercy seeks to meet us in this sacred space. 

O heart of man, so frail, so torn, by cares of earth and fleeting dreams,

Your walls are high, your latch is worn, yet still His light in mercy streams.

No gate too stout, no bolt too fast, can bar the love that seeks to save,

For Christ, the Guest, has come at last, to free the soul from sin’s dark grave. 

He stands, the King of glory bright, yet humble as the Bethlehem morn,

His hands, once pierced, now bear the light that scatters night and heals the torn.

No thunder rolls, no trumpets blare, to herald this eternal plea,

But gentle knocks, in patient prayer, beseech the heart to set Him free. 

“Open the door,” His whisper sings, a melody of boundless care,

The One who formed the stars and springs now longs your inmost life to share.

He does not force, nor break, nor rend, but waits with love that never tires,

A Friend, a Savior, without end, to kindle hope’s unquenched fires. 

What holds you back, O trembling soul, from flinging wide the rusted gate?

Is it the world’s alluring toll, or fear that bids you hesitate?

The chains of doubt, the weight of sin, He longs to loose with tender might,

To enter in, to dwell within, and flood your heart with holy light. 

Imagine now the feast prepared, should you but bid Him cross the sill,

A table spread, with mercy shared, where broken hearts with joy may fill.

No stranger He, but Christ the Lord, who bore the cross to make you whole,

His knock the echo of His Word, His love the balm to heal your soul. 

Yet pause and see the world abroad, where countless doors remain fast-shut,

Where hearts, by pride or pain unflawed, in darkness lie, their hope rebut.

He knocks for all, the rich, the poor, the wanderer lost in starless night,

For every soul He would restore, to bring them home to endless light. 

O Church of Christ, His body here, take up the call to bear His name,

To echo knocks through doubt and fear, and bid the weary seek His flame.

Go to the highways, hedges, streets, where broken lives in shadow dwell,

Proclaim the love that ever meets, the Savior’s grace no tongue can tell. 

And still He stands, through ages long, His patience vast as oceans wide,

His knock a song of mercy strong, His heart the home where all abide.

O let us rise, with fervent prayer, to open wide each guarded door,

To welcome Him, His life to share, and dwell with Him forevermore. 

So hear, O soul, the Savior’s voice, that calls through time, through storm, through strife,

“I stand at the door,” He says, “Rejoice! I bring the gift of endless life.”

Fling wide the gate, let love abide, let Christ the King in triumph reign,

For He who knocks remains beside, to lead you home through joy and pain.