Father, I stretch my hands to Thee,
No other help I know;
If Thou withdraw Thyself from me,
Ah! whither shall I go?
What did Thine only Son endure,
Before I drew my breath!
What pain, what labor, to secure
My soul from endless death!
O Jesus, could I this believe,
I now should feel Thy power!
Now my poor soul Thou would’st retrieve,
Nor let me wait one hour.
Author of Faith, to Thee I lift
My weary longing eyes:
O let me now receive that gift,
My soul without it dies!
Surely Thou canst not let me die;
O speak and I should live;
And here I will unwearied lie,
Till Thou Thy spirit give.
The worst of sinners would rejoice,
Could they but see Thy face;
O let me hear Thy quick’ning voice
And taste Thy pard’ning grace.
Charles Wesley, 1741
Read Psalm 28
(Charles Wesley often wrote his hymns as part of his personal devotional time. This hymn certainly feels as if we are listening to Wesley’s prayer. Maybe it seems hard to believe that a devout hymnwriter would have such a desperate need for God but I suspect that vulnerability is what made his hymns so relatable. What do you need most from the Lord today? Don’t hesitate to bring that need to Him.)