The grace which God bestows on us

The grace which God bestows on us

Is just His Son in full;

The rich enjoyment of this Christ

Is plenteous

bountiful.

’Tis far too great to comprehend

Too wondrous to contain:

How we

once children of despair

God’s masterpiece became.

The whole creation now beneath

The weight of bondage sore

In seeing God’s sons manifest

Is freed forevermore.

Th’ eternal purpose of our God

Will be full manifest;

The hope of glory now concealed

Is then to all expressed.

The briars will be myrtle trees

The thorn will be no more

And peace will reign where war did rage

The curse will then be o’er.

’Tis then the trees shall clap their hands

And all the hills shall sing;

This glorious freedom shall God’s sons

Thus manifested bring.

God’s deepest work of grace goes on

Each day

though hidden

small

Until that day

when manifest

It is revealed to all.

By then God’s wrought His finished work:

Himself dispensed to us;

And all creation ’round admires

His product

glorious.

The angels that before our God

In brightest splendor stand

Will join the universal praise

To Him for all He’s planned.

And of the devil

of his end . . . ?

We’ll praise the Lord for how

Just distant smoke is all that’s left

Of all that troubles now.

So shall we not delight to give

Ourselves in every way

And let the Lord dispense Himself

Into us more each day;

The grace that we receive each day

Though hidden oft

and small

Is God Himself wrought into us

That day to shine o’er all.