When Grace Is Mixed With Care

 From the depth of my heart, I speak to my God..

For inside every fetter, I am armed with his sword.

My never-ending story, of grace brought to life..

Is the yearning of my soul, as a caring, loving wife.


In hindsight I go, where prayer seeks your face..

To touch upon your favour, with adornment of lace.

From the bellows of great awakening, I am hungry for much more..

So quicken every rainbow and bless me to my core.


Vast are the mercies, where your blood awakes my soul..

Beyond my comprehension, my faith will be my goal.

I am blessed above the rest, because of the Cross..

And I know my life is destined and I know who is my boss.


Yea, I am grateful, for every passing day..

For the garment on my body, is sanctified with prayer.

To rise up and gather, the wheat from the tare..

Is more than I could ask for, when grace is mixed with care.


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