He’s my refuge, sword and buckler
He’s my rock and He’s its cleft.
He is enough—sufficient
When there is nothing left.
He is promises delivered
He is future victories won
He can pity like a Father
Empathizing like the Son.
Bearing burdens till He lifts them
He stays near till struggles cease
With His own He condescends to dwell
Exchanging fear for peace.
I cannot comprehend this love
When I am so undone
I cannot fathom boundless grace
For me, the filthy one.
But certain can I be of it
There’ll be no fitful tossing
As I approach the end of time
And face the Jordan’s crossing.
I’ve laid the hands of those I love
In His, at end of day.
I, too, can grasp that gentle hand
And quietly fly away.
Angels, then dispatched for me
Will give my soul protection
Guiding me to “things above”
On which I’ve set affection.
Praying, praising, pleading more
The vigil I will keep.
Till my spirit takes its journey
And my body lies in sleep.
He’s my refuge, sword and buckler
He’s my rock and He’s its cleft.
He is enough till one sweet day
On gentle wings —-I’ve left.
c. colley