Not What My Hands Have Done

Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul

Not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole

Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God

Not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my awful load

These guilty hands are raised, filthy rags are all I bring

And I have come to hide beneath your wings

These holy hands are raised, Washed in the fountain of your grace

And now I wear your righteousness

Thy work alone oh Christ can ease this weight of sin

Thy blood alone, oh Lamb of God, can give me peace within

Thy Love to me, oh God, not mine oh Lord to Thee

Can rid me of this dark unrest and set my Spirit free

Thy grace alone oh God to me can pardon speak

Thy power alone oh Lamb of God can this sore bondage break

No other work save thine, no other blood will do

No strength but that which is divine can bear me safely through

I praise the God of grace; I trust his truth and might

He calls me his, I call him mine, My God, my Joy, my Light

My Lord has saved my life and freely pardon gives

I love because he first loved me, I live because he lives