Mine eyes are set on eternity, but oft they seem to drift, For in mine heart, Heaven is far, due to my sin-created rift. I ache, I seek, I knock, I pray, Yet still, I cannot find. I want to do it all, but can't, For it is His work to do, not mine. My sin is present from womb to tomb, Oh, how I wish to be set free. I am yet blind, but oh, I pray that Thou may open mine eyes to see. Oh Lord, keep me, Wash me clean, of all mine iniquities. For what is worldly gain and accolades

My God is a God of grace, He turns His face unto me. He is the Great Gardener, Whilst I am only a lowly vessel filled with dirt. He reaps, and sows, and planteth seeds, My Lord hath blessed me with new birth. Oh, forever will I sing to His praise! With a renewed will, filled with mirth. He hath plucked away all mine old weeds, Yet will I still mourn over mine filth. O Gracious One, who sent His Son, I thank Thee for all the works that Thou hast done. For Christ suffered from