I remember days, when I was small, my mother would come to me;
To my little room, where my little things shared a shelf with my little dreams.
She would hold me close and she’d speak to me of all that a fam’ly could be.
In that little room, which I left all too soon, I felt her love for me.
I remember a time I left childhood behind, and my father would come to me;
To my busy rooms, where my children played, in my house filled with bigger dreams.
We would hold them close and we’d speak to them of all that a fam’ly could be.
In that busy room, which he left all too soon, I felt his love for me.
There are rooms of learning and rooms of rest, and rooms where fam’lies pray.
And if walls could speak, they’d remind us each how precious is ev’ry day.
For I remember a night when a dim little light cast a shadow where my grandfather lay; in a quiet room where his children stood, on the last of his mortal days.
We gathered close, and we spoke with him all that a fam’ly could be.
In that quiet room, which he left much too soon, we felt of eternity.
In my Savior’s house, when I am still, the Spirit comes to me;
In His sacred rooms, where His sacred words give answers to those who seek.
I feel Him close as He speaks to me of all that a fam’ly can be.
In those holy walls, He gives peace to us all and I feel His love for me.
And when I go to Him, I believe that is when He feels my love for Him.
Text: Kamie Bolen
Music: Kamie Bolen
Album: Submitted Music (2007-2011)
Composition Date: 2011
More Info: CMS 2011