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He Died Sharing the Gospel with Natives (Rap Song) | David Brainerd

New Album | TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH Epic Songs Inspired by History's Greatest Missionaries ➡️ https://open.spotify.com/album/2NvQWDSpu39elQL4qM8VuI Also, check out the latest merchandise on the website! A new John Calvin workout shirt just dropped. ➡️ https://reformedanddangerous.com ----------------------------------- Follow on Social Media ➡️X: https://x.com/ReformedRap ➡️Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ReformedRap/ ----------------------------------- 🎧Streaming Options🎧 Spotify → https://open.spotify.com/artist/16nzYmnDybx74bijgsoMdC Apple music → https://music.apple.com/us/artist/reformed-and-dangerous/1842713775 Amazon Music → https://music.amazon.com/artists/B0FSWZ9JVJ/reformed-and-dangerous ----------------------------------- Lyrics On the eastern frontier and a low fire burning Snow on the wind and the cold world turning A young man kneels where the smoke is rising Opens up the Book and they come in, listening The Delaware gather, the worn and the poor The hungry, the ragged, the sick and the sore He gives them the Name like he's opening a door A light in a dark they had not seen before But look at his hand — there's a cloth, there's a stain He's coughing up red, he is wracked with the pain Barely past twenty and the sickness is plain He buries it deep and he rides out again No pulpit, no parish, no map and no guide He traded all that for the snow and the wild Just a horse and a Book and a calling inside And a fire he'd be carried to the grave to provide So send me where the maps run out Where the snow swallows the trail Let me burn for the ones in the dark of the woods Though my body's a candle, and the candle is frail I am consumed — consumed So spend me down to the wick And let the fire that is killing me Light the dark where Your Name's never been Now they got no reason to trust this man A pale, dying stranger from a faraway land Why would they open a door, why would they care For a ghost in a coat with the death in his stare He comes to them humble, sets his pride on the ground Sleeps out in their cold where the snow's coming down He sits in their lodges, learns the shape of their sound Puts their words in his mouth till the meaning is found He weeps when they weep, holds their kids when they're sick Prays low through the grief when the dying comes quick He stays through the winter, through the thin and the lack And slowly, so slowly, the fear starts to crack The stranger's a brother now, the distance is gone The pale, dying preacher and the people are one They lean in to listen when he speaks of the Son In the tongue that near broke him — but the work has been done So send me where the maps run out Where the snow swallows the trail Let me burn for the ones in the dark of the woods Though my body's a candle, and the candle is frail I am consumed — consumed So spend me down to the wick And let the fire that is killing me Light the dark where Your Name's never been The fire came down — the fire came down Not judgment but mercy came pouring down And there in the clearing the hard hearts gave way The proud and the broken all weeping to pray The fire came down — the fire came down The harvest he'd bled for was breaking the ground The flood he had prayed for, it came like a wave And he stood in the blaze, and he watched, and he stayed He gave them his years, he gave them his blood He gave every mile that the sickness allowed He gave them the cough, he gave them the pain He held nothing back — gave it all to the flame He poured out the last, kept nothing to keep He burned to the wick, to the smoke, to the bone And the light that it cost him was all he would leave But the fire's still spreading, the work's just begun When the cough digs in deep and the damage is done No fight in the rider, no road in his bones They lift him from the saddle, they carry him home The harvest comes in, but he's too far gone They bear him off east while the fire burns on He's torn from the people he'd come to die for And he rode to his people no more Twenty-nine years when the sickness had won In the house of a friend, with the wedding undone He never saw old, never saw gray Don't measure the man by the length of his days You measure a life by the fire it throws Not how long that it burns, but how bright that it goes The smallest of candles, held up to the night Can outburn the sun with a hotter light 'Cause the journal outlived him — a century gone It was lighting a fire in the hearts of the young They read how he burned and they picked up the flame And they carried to the nations what he'd died to proclaim The grave took his body, the grave took his breath And he speaks, and he speaks, and he speaks... after death