Lyrics
Long ago, a vision came to be,
The smoke of a thousand villages
No one there to speak the holy Word;
A call within a Scottish doctor stirred,
Unarmed he walked where others feared to tread,
A lion's jaw, a shoulder scarred and red;
I sometimes have seen...
I have seen in the morning sun,
The smoke of a thousand villages;
A thousand villages where not one...
Has ever heard the name of Christ.
If a commission by an earthly king is an honor,
How can a commission by a Heavenly King,
Be called a sacrifice?
They spoke of sacrifice, the years he gave away,
But with humble heart, he'd counter all they'd say:
"Don't speak to me of sacrifice I've made,
But of privilege, a debt I gladly paid.
For what is hardship to a soul set free,
By Him who died on Calvary?"
His body rests beneath cold English stone,
But in Africa, his heart remained at home.
I sometimes have seen...
I have seen in the morning sun,
The smoke of a thousand villages;
A thousand villages where not one...
Has ever heard the name of Christ.
If a commission by an earthly king is an honor,
How can a commission by a Heavenly King,
Be called a sacrifice?
This calling isn't for a chosen few,
It is the pulse of every heart renewed.
"Go ye forth," the sacred charge resounds,
To every nation, to earth's furthest bounds.
Until our saviour comes in glory,
Let every life become a mission story.
I sometimes have seen...
I have seen in the morning sun,
The smoke of a thousand villages;
A thousand villages where not one...
Has ever heard the name of Christ.
If a commission by an earthly king is an honor,
How can a commission by a Heavenly King,
Be called a sacrifice?
How can a commission by a Heavenly King,
Be called a sacrifice?
