Boxes

Hear the echo down the hall,
Dusty shelves and empty walls.
I stack the boxes all alone,
Never felt so far from home.

My daddy told me, “Try not to hide,
But keep your door open wide.
Warm the welcome, young and old,
See what stories unfold.”
And I’ll try to trust what I’ve been told.

He said, “Throw your heart into everything you do and all you say,
We’ll see the glory someday.
Throw your heart into everything you do and all you show,
Do little things with great affection,
Do little things with all your attention,
There’s greater hope in what’s to come,
So make a home.”

It’s hard to move from all you’ve known,
When nothing here is set in stone.
There still are boxes from the past,
But the memories will last.

So line the pictures on the wall,
Make this a home before the fall,
And paint the kitchen, fill the shelves,
Have the place looking well,
Just like my daddy told me to,

Throw your heart into everything you do and all you say,
We’ll see the glory someday.
Throw your heart into everything you do and all you show,
Do little things with great affection,
Do little things with all your attention,
There’s greater hope in what’s to come,
So make a home,
So make a home.