Still Waiting at the Door

I built our home with trembling hands. Each wall was part of heaven's plans. You were my joy, my greatest gift. Now only prayers are what I lift. The Bible's open every night. I talk to God beneath the light. I whisper names I still adore, But only silence fills the floor. I'm still waiting at the door. Where loved ones lived in hearts with soul. I hold my faith through every storm. Though this old house feels far from home. I trust the Lord to heal once more. So I'm still waiting At the door. Your little shoe, your final note. The lullabies I softly wrote. I still set plates for all three. Just me, the cross, and memories. They say you've gone and moved to Heaven. But every night before my bed. I ask sweet Jesus bring them near. And wipe away my every tear. I'm still waiting at the door. Though time has passed, I pray for more. I don't ask gold, I don't seek praise. Just one more glimpse of the younger days. I believe what I'm praying for. So I'm still waiting at the Door. Oh. I walk by faith, not what I see. I know God's hand is guiding me. He sees my pain. He holds my cries. He stored each tear that left my Eyes. I'm still waiting at the door. With Jesus standing near the floor. He gives me strength to love, to stay. Until you both come home someday. I won't give up, my soul is sure. I'm still waiting At The door. I'm still waiting at the door.