I sometimes wish I could see my approaching sin fast enough to say “Get thee behind me satan!”,
But I always miss the chance,
Because by the time I see the sin, satan does his dance from two steps ahead.
In the moment when my awareness lulls,
All too willing to attack my armors cracks,
And before I can even check the facts,
My armor chinks
From the attack.
But Lord I take Your word,
My sword, and cling to it for comfort.
But satans got daggers of his own ,
And adjusts Your word for his combat,
He doesn’t aim to miss,
No matter my excuse or the circumstance.
He adapts Your word for his convenience,
It’s unbelievable what I must stand against.
But in my weakness I cry for You,
And like the morning after a bad dream,
My troubles fade to gray,
My doubt lifts like the fog,
And I can see my mistake,
Like a bell Your word rang true,
That in my time of trouble, to call to You.