As I wrestled with him fiercely all day,
Thinking not he's my potter, and I clay.
My mind in one thing he only can give,
With earnest strife, I Know I'll receive.
I roared in impatience as days turn nights,
With hunger, red was my sight.
Pain and frustration in my ***** lingers,
Or was my sins behind why I'm hindered
Cognitively I received"not of work but of mercy"
For a sinner like Me I've been too bold and feisty.
Hypocrite was I for to all world shown,
And always with pride I went to the throne.
Humbly I bow, when realisation was dawn,
With my heart screaming for mercy, from my sin I turn.
Now as a son, with peace and boldness I go,
With power and authority I'll fight my foe.
The secret place of prayer.
His grace yet abound