Body of Death
I was born with it, this body of death;
Though I long to get rid of it, it remains,
with its needs, its demands, its desires;
A suitcase packed for this journey of life,
ever reminding me of my frailties.
Like Jacob's limp, this body of death says,
'you wrestled with God and prevailed,'
but lest I get too prideful, it also says
'I want, I need, I ache, I grieve, I am
Adam's son as well as God's!'
Cursed body of death!
Will someone kindly cut me free?
Blessed promise! Hallelujsh!
Resurrection! Blessed Hope of all believers!
The Spirit's presence makes this burden light.
So I pick up this body of death,
this unwanted baggage,
and I soldier on, knowing sweet freedom
is but a trumpet blast away.
Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus!
Free me from this body of death,
this unwanted luggage of Adam.
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