Song Of The Warrior

In the Land of The Living, my enemies shall fall,
My head's lifted high, high above them all.
The Lord is my strength and my prayer is a shield,
I'm girded in gladness as the long days yield.
Though wars rise against me, shall I be afraid?
No, I shall not! I am fearfully made!
My days were ordained when there was not one,
Ordained, just as light that rains from the sun…
My frame was not hidden; it was skillfully wrought,
In the womb of my mother, formed by God's thought.
An angel of the Lord lies ready and awaits,
Pursuing those who wink and plot evil fates.
If schemers rise against me, shall I be afraid?
No, I shall not! I am fearfully made!
Even in the darkness, it is light to the Lord…
With Him by my side, my courage is restored!
His thoughts are of me and outnumber grains of sand;
From the sea of destruction, I'm spit out on dry land!
My feet, firmly planted, on a Solid Rock,
I'll not lose my way from the path that I walk.
Though it grows dark and slippery, along this long trail,
A hand is outstretched, with the scars from a nail…
Of whom shall I fear? Of what, shall I be afraid?
For I am wonderfully wrought and fearfully made!


7-21-02
By Sharon Frye