O Help My Unbelief
1. How sad our state by nature is! Our sin, how deep it stains!
And Satan binds our captive minds Fast in his slavish chains
But there's a voice of sov'reign grace, Sounds from the sacred word:
"O, ye despairing sinners come, And trust upon the Lord."
2. My soul obeys th' almighty call, And runs to this relief
I would believe thy promise, Lord; O help my unbelief!
To the dear fountain of thy blood, Incarnate God, I fly;
Here let me wash my spotted soul, From crimes of deepest dye.
3. Stretch out Thine arm, victorious King, My reigning sins subdue;
Drive the old dragon from his seat, With all his hellish crew.
A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, On thy kind arms I fall;
Be thou my strength and righteousness, My Jesus, and my all.
© 2007 Justin Smith Music.Used by permission. All rights reserved.