There is but One whose love and help are sure.
Renewed each day as surely as the sun.
Under His wings of grace I find the cure:
Sin and hate, sorrow, sickness – done.
‘Tis Jesus Christ, the sole trustworthy One.
Tiny babe: He took that form in Bethlehem.
Relinquishing Heaven’s privileges, became a man.
Upon Himself, He took my sin and all its curse.
Secure in Love’s omnipotence, He took the cross.
Then surely I can trust myself into His hands.