My spi-rit looks to God a-lone;
My rock and ref-uge is His throne;
In all my fears, in all my straits,
My soul on His sal-va-tion waits.
Trust Him, ye saints, in all your ways,
Pour out your hearts be-fore His face;
When help-ers fail, and foes in-vade,
God is our all suff-i-cient aid.
God is our all suff-i-cient aid.
False are the men of high de-gree,
The bas-er sort are van-i-ty;
Laid in the bal-ance both ap-pear
Light as a puff of emp-ty air.
Make not in-creas-ing gold your trust,
Nor set your heart on glit-tering dust;
Why will you grasp the fleet-ing smoke,
And not be-lieve what God hath spoke?
And not be-lieve what God hath spoke?
Once has His awe-some voice de-clared,
Once and a-gain my ears have heard,
All power is His e-ter-nal due;
He must be feared and trust-ed too.
For sov-ereign power reigns not a-lone,
Grace is a part-ner of the throne:
Thy grace and just-ice, might-y Lord,
Shall well pro-vide our last re-ward.
Shall well pro-vide our last re-ward.
*Music: Composed May 2002 by Mitch Cervinka. Donated to the Public Domain for the unrestricted use of Christ's church.