“Metamorphosis,” Ensign, Aug. 1990, 17
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock …”*
Within my faithless heart pride deafened me
Each time I knelt to pray without this door;
And choosing worldly paths, I strayed from thee,
For thy still voice was easy to ignore.
Till deep within recesses of my soul,
I heard the echoes of premortal life,
And felt despair I could not console
For time I squandered, lost in sin and strife.
How can it be that thou would come to one,
That thou consider me a soul of worth?
This wondrous thought transcends comparison
As thou art Lord of heaven and this earth.
Each day thy knock still sounds; what is my choice?
O Lord of love and peace, I hear thy voice.