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Surprising Grace

May 2001 | by Faith Cook

My God, how shall I tell the grace

Or how the tender mercy trace

That looked upon an erring race

And then laid hold on me?

 

The mighty angels stood amazed,

The seraphim in wonder gazed,

Then loud their gladdest anthems raised

When Christ laid hold on me.

 

Who, who can plumb such mystery?

No tongue can tell — then let me be

Surprised to all eternity

That Christ laid hold on me.

 

And how may I such love return?

Oh, let my soul with passion burn,

While prostrate at his feet I learn

Why Christ laid hold on me.

 

To know him more would I aspire,

To love him with a heart of fire,

Wrapped up in him, my one desire,

Who first laid hold on me.

 

Then onward to that mark I press,

Till I the heavenly prize possess,

And with the ransomed throng confess

My Christ laid hold on me.

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