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“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.