The Porch of His Presence

MONK’S JOURNAL

The Song Before the Cabin

Today, I walked further than usual.

The forest seemed especially still, as if listening with me. My steps led me to a narrow river, winding through the trees like a silver ribbon, its voice gentle, steady, inviting. I found a fallen log along its bank and sat for some time, letting the hush settle around me.

It was there that the words came.

I have no great skill for songs. Yet in the quiet, the thoughts began to gather — soft at first, then stronger — like the distant hum of a melody I’d always known, though never sung aloud. It was not yet a place I had found with my feet, but a place I sensed was waiting for me.

A cabin. The cabin.

And so I wrote these words:

The Cabin That Waited
(to the tune and spirit of “Wayfaring Stranger”)

Verse 1
I am a pilgrim, worn and weary,
Traveling roads both lost and long,
Dust on my boots and breath unsteady,
But still I hear that cabin’s song.

Chorus
There is a place beyond the river,
Where light and silence gently meet—
The porch is warm, the coffee waiting,
And peace comes rising on bare feet.

Verse 2
The skies have thundered, friends have scattered,
And time has thinned this traveler’s frame—
But still I dream of beams and rafters,
Where no one asks for wealth or name.

Chorus
There is a place beyond the river,
Where light and silence gently meet—
The porch is warm, the coffee waiting,
And peace comes rising on bare feet.

Verse 3
I’ve heard the owls in midnight sorrow,
Felt the cold of hunger’s toll—
But there’s a dawn not shaped by hours,
That stirs the ashes of the soul.

Chorus
There is a place beyond the river,
Where light and silence gently meet—
The porch is warm, the coffee waiting,
And peace comes rising on bare feet.

Verse 4
They say she stands with lamplight glowing,
That cabin built by love alone—
With wildflowers near the doorway growing,
And God still walks the stepping stones.

Final Chorus
There is a place beyond the shadow,
Where rest and mercy softly meet—
The porch is wide, the door is open,
And joy comes dancing on bare feet.

I do not know where this cabin stands.
But I believe it waits.
And in the waiting, so do I.