I was straying, rebellious, far off from my God;
I was vile as a sinner could be.

I once in gloomy darkness walked,
              With blinded heart and mind,

The Saviour bore the tree of death,
To sacrifice his peerless life.

“Are ye able,” said the Master,
              “To be crucified with me?”

John Wycliffe, strong and true for Christ,
To please poor man he nothing cared:

While the world is ever seeking for something that’s new,
There’s a message comes ringing that’s tested and true:

 They that wait upon Jehovah
      Shall renew their failing strength;

God give us men endued with power,
To meet the challenge of the hour,

And Peter cried, with glowing heart,
It is good, it is good, to be here.

It takes a village (so we’re told)
      To raise a child today.

Shall I aspire to heav’nly bliss,
And all my powers bend to this,

The Son of God has bled and died,
In grief and pain was crucified,

Where is Elijah’s God of might,
And where his miracles of old?