I am a poor wayfaring stranger, Travelling through this world of woe,
There is no sickness, war or danger , In that bright land to which I go.
I’m going there to raise my family; I’m going there to live in peace;
I’m crossing over land and water, To where this wayfaring will cease.
There is a place that I call “Nowhere”, Far away across the sea;
And there’s a woman sadly singing; Singing songs that are for me.
There is a place that I call “Nowhere”, And it’s where I long to be;
For there’s a woman sadly waiting; Waiting there my face to see.
I have a home that I call “Nowhere” , I do not know where I belong;
Don’t know my age, don’t know my country , And when I sing, I sing this song.
There’s many more on this same journey; Their homes destroyed, nowhere to live
Dare we reject our fellow travellers? We freely take, let’s freely give.
We saw you there hungry and thirsty; We saw you cold and needing care;
Without a home, except a prison; And passing by just left you there.
But Jesus told us, “love the stranger, Such love will show your love for me.”
Lord help us love and serve and welcome; By blessing them we blessed will be.
The second verse from “Home is a place called Nowhere” Book by Leon Rosselson about a girl separated from her refugee mother in detention.
~ Shared at our March 2022 Online meeting by Ian Day
Listen to the song on YouTube