O Help My Unbelief [Andrew Osenga]

How sad our state by nature is!
Our sin, how deep it stains!
And Satan binds our captive minds
Fast in his slavish chains

But there's a voice of sovereign grace
Says from the sacred word:
O ye dispairing sinners, come!
And trust upon the Lord

My soul obeys the almighty call
And runs to this relief
I will believe thy promise, Lord,
O help my unbelief!

To the dear fountain of Thy blood
Incarnate God, I fly
Here let me wash my spotted soul
From crimes of deepest dye!

Stretch out thine arm, victorious king
My reigning sins subdue
Drive the old dragon from his seat
With all his hellowish crew

A guilty, weak and helpless worm
On Thy kind arms I fall
Be Thou my strength in righteousness
My Jesus and my all

But there's a voice of sovereign grace
Says from the sacred word:
O ye dispairing sinners, come!
And trust upon the Lord