We judge one another in different ways depending among other things on how they look, how they sound and where they live. However we can be quite wrong because you cannot judge a book by its cover and neither can you judge a person by the kind of house they live in.

I’m not the house I live in,

I’m not the bricks and stone.

I am the one who lives here

The house is just on loan.

A house that’s clean and tidy

May show the tenant’s care,

But it’s a pale reflection

Of who is living there.

 

The other house I live in

That everyone can see,

Flesh and blood, these bones, this shape

It isn’t really me.

I hope the life I‘m living

Contains sometimes a clue

To who I am inside here

And where I’m going to.

 

For I was born a spirit

And God marked out for me

A path, a purpose waiting

A certain destiny.

 So Heaven’s where I’m heading.

My time on earth is brief,

I’m not the house I live in

And this is my belief.

 

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