Strange and Mysterious Is My Life

Strange and mysterious is my life
What opposites I feel within
A stable peace, a constant strife
The rule of grace, the pow'r of sin
Too often I am captive led
Yet daily triumph in my Head

I prize the privilege of prayer
But o! what backwardness to pray
Though on the Lord I cast my care
I feel its burden every day
I seek his will in all I do
Yet find my own is working too

I call the promises my own
And prize them more than mines of gold
Yet though their sweetness I have known
They leave me unimpressed and cold
One hour upon the truth I feed
The next I know not what I read

I love the holy day of rest
When Jesus meets his gathered saints
Sweet day, of all the week the best
For its return my spirit pants
Yet often, through my unbelief
It proves a day of guilt and grief

While on my Savior I rely
I know my foes shall lose their aim
And therefore dare their pow'r defy
Assured of conquest through his name
But soon my confidence is slain
And all my fears return again

Thus different pow'rs within me strive
And grace, and sin, by turns prevail
I grieve, rejoice, decline, revive
And vict'ry hangs in doubtful scale
But Jesus has his promise passed
That grace shall overcome at last