When over sin I sorrow,
And look to God for hope to borrow,
I weep at my wretched state,
And pray that God’s grace not be to late.
When buried under loads of work,
Within hideous doubt always lurk,
I sigh in bitter defeat,
And you lift me up off my feet.
As I strain to stave off sin,
I hopeless, see the devil’s grin,
And submit to sin commit,
But through it your love transmit.
When all the world seems to wail,
Under sins crushing weight flail,
I remember your love and grace,
And in evil I now see your face.
I see your face, tears in eyes,
For one who sins dies,
But gracious you are,
And you announce it by a star.
Two-thousand years ago a son born,
Who everyone would scorn,
Strip, beat, and hang upon a cross,
Gawking as his life loss.
But then with triumphant cry,
The son of God die,
To hell descended,
And finally to heaven ascended.
And so no longer sin be a crushing weight,
Because of God’s love great,
We can live as mean reborn,
Not as shells forlorn.