Glorying in Infirmities. 2 Cor. 11. 30; 12. 5, 9, 10

W. Gadsby    148th

A helpless worm am I,
Yet often start aside;
Infirmities annoy,
And enemies deride;
Ten thousand evils me assault,
And wound my soul, and make me halt.

I want to be set free
From every hateful foe,
From each infirmity,
And only pleasure know;
But ’tis my heavenly Father’s will,
That I infirmities should feel.

[Infirmities, as means,
Have taught my soul to see,
That nought, how fair it seems,
But Christ will do for me;
I must have Christ as All in all,
Or sink in ruin, guilt, and thrall.]

I’ll gladly glory, then,
In my infirmity,
That Jesus’ power and name,
May ever rest on me;
I’ll bless his name; he’ll bring me through,
And he’ll have all the glory too.

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