What kind of a man am I when I am in Rome,
Gone away on business, many miles from home?
When I’m waiting for the plane, or wandering in the store,
With time to kill, nothing to do, what’s my mind used for?
When there is an evening free and no demands at all,
Am I one to behave, and go home standing tall?
When the family’s all in bed and the house is still,
What are my thoughts and wants and acts? Are they my Father’s will?
When temptations come along in myriads of ways,
What’s my answer, my response, to what the tempter says?
What kind of a man am I when I’m all alone—
Can I proudly tell my family everything I’ve done?
True, deeds and pious speeches in the public eye
Can make me seem a righteous man—but really what am I?
Lord, I can make a show of faith and righteousness at home,
But the kind of man I really am is when I’m free to roam.
If I can pass this certain test and hold my head up high,
What rewards there are in store both now and by and by—
Now, as sons can point with pride and say they’ll follow me;
And later when God calls me up with Him eternally.
Oh, may I be one who’d be proud if all my deeds were known—
A genuinely Christian man in public, and alone.
-- Jay M. Richardson