Circuit Rider
The fever was a raging, in the year of ’92,
It took his little sister and his older brother too.
When his daddy died, it left him and his mother all alone,
Still he heard that Jesus loved him and had claimed him for his own.
Revival fires were burning, on the
As the spirit moved upon him, a vision filled his mind.
He knew that he’d been chosen, that story he could tell,
And the words that he’d been given could save a soul from hell.
Chorus
Circuit rider, he’s up before dawn,
Circuit rider, preaching hard and praying long,
Circuit rider, his eyes upon the cross,
With a vision for revival, and a burden for the lost.
Now Johnson was a simple man, his needs were very few,
A saddle bag, a horse to ride and the gospel of good news.
Many times he’d ride for days through the snow and freezing rain,
To spread the word of truth and love, through the power of Jesus’ name.
Chorus
More than a hundred years have passed, since Johnson walked this earth.
Though the fields are ripe for harvest, few souls still find rebirth.
Can’t you hear the cry of Jesus, he’s pointing out the way,
To the circuit riding spirit that lived in Johnson’s day.
Chorus
Words and music by Steve Tichenor
© First Step Publishing 1993