Like Thee

Lord, I want to be like thee,
And live the life divine.
Spotless, pure, and holy;
To walk in love sublime.
But oft I find I stumble,
The carnal man at heart
Rears his head, I crumble;
In pieces fall apart.

I don't want to be like me,
Too weak to keep in line.
Sinful, frail, unruly;
My flesh will not align.
Whom shall deliver me
From this war within?
My soul feels faint and weary
From the law of death and sin.

Oh my soul,
Look up and be not blind!
Believe the ancient, timeless scroll;
Is not the Rose of Sharon thine?
His petals lovely, soft, and fine
Strong withstand the blackest thumb.
Oh look up and be not blind;
Rest and let His will be done.

When thou art weak is He not strong?
Read and trust each loving line.
See His roots grow deep and long;
The branches aren't what hold the Vine.
Let in Him be all thy goodness,
And look not to thyself.
Live the faith life in it's fullness;
Crucified be the old man's self.