by Frieda Felten, Wausau, WI
I have a special telephone, it's all my very own. It's golden wires reach to Heaven to my dear Father's throne. Oh the wires are never broken, nor out of order there, For they are managed by my Father and He keeps them in repair.
The line is never busy when emergencies arise, For He hears my urgent calling away up in the skies. How patiently He listens, never coldly turns away, Never hangs up the receiver, though I call Him night and day.
When my heart cries "Abba Father!" He attends my earnest prayer, I am never disappointed because my God is always there. I often hear my phone bell ringing, 'tis my Father calling me, He has some important message, for His needy child, you see.
When I need His special comfort, He directs me to His Word. The Holy Spirit gives me wisdom, and points me to the Lord. We talk about my Saviour, Jesus Christ who died for me, I can cast my cares upon Him, when I need Him urgently!
I never get a phone bill, because of course, you know it's free. For the hours we spend in talking I could never pay the fee. As I listen, I am strengthened, for His voice is full of love. I thank Him for that private line, between my heart and His above.