God builds no churches. By His plan
That labor has been left to man.
No spires miraculously arise,
No little mission from the skies
Falls on the bleak and barren place
To be a source of strength and grace.
The humblest church demands its price
In human toil and sacrifice.
Across the valley of despair,
Men still must build God's house of prayer.
God sends no churches from the skies.
Out of our hearts they must arise.