Saturday, September 12, 2009

For This I'll Praise You

A fickle shell made out of dust
Prone to envy, greed and lust,
Doomed to die, my sentence just,
For this, my Lord, you came,
Dark and evil deep inside,
Victim of my foolish pride,
Yet for this, my Lord you died,
For this I praise Your name

O wretched man, I surely am,
Sinful, selfish, filthy worm,
No hope here for me to claim,
For this You left Your glory,
To lift me from this mound of dirt,
To take away my guilt and hurt,
To fill this worthless shell with worth,
For this I shout Your story

O wondrous Savior, wondrous love,
You left Your perfect home above,
To give Your life, Your love to prove,
For this, My Lord, I praise You,
You have quenched my endless thirst,
Given hope to man most cursed,
Above all else You loved us first,
For this my Lord I praise You

O, wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from
this body of death? I thank God, through Jesus Christ
Our Lord, Rom.7;24-25

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