John & Charles Wesley · 62 of 258

Hebrews 12:2

“Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith.”

Weary of struggling with my pain, Hopeless to burst my nature’s chain, Hardly I give the contest o’er, I seek to free myself no more.

From my own works at last I cease, God that creates must seal my peace; Fruitless my toil and vain my care, And all my fitness is despair.

Lord, I despair myself to heal: I see my sin, but cannot feel; I cannot, till Thy Spirit blow, And bid the obedient waters flow.

’Tis Thine a heart of flesh to give; Thy gifts I only can receive: Here then to Thee I all resign; To draw, redeem, and seal is Thine.

With simple faith, to Thee I call, My Light, my Life, my Lord, my All: I wait the moving of the pool; I wait the word that speaks me whole.

Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure, Make my infected nature pure; Peace, righteousness, and joy impart, And pour Thyself into my heart.