Into Thine Hand, O God of Truth

Into Thine hand

O God of truth

My spir­it I com­mit;

Thou hast re­deemed my soul from death

And saved me from the pit.

The pas­sions of my hope and fear

Maintained a doubt­ful strife

While sor­row

pain

and sin con­spired

To take away my life.

My times are in Thine hand

I cried

Though I draw near the dust;

Thou art the re­fuge where I hide

The God in whom I trust.

O make Thy re­con­cil­èd face

Upon Thy serv­ant shine

And save me for Thy mer­cy’s sake

For I’m en­tire­ly Thine.

’Twas in my haste my spir­it said

I must des­pair and die

I am cut off be­fore Thine eyes;

But Thou hast heard my cry.

Thy good­ness how di­vine­ly free!

How won­drous is Thy grace

To those that fear Thy ma­jes­ty

And trust Thy pro­mis­es!

O love the Lord

all ye His saints

And sing His prais­es loud;

He’ll bend His ear to your com­plaints

And re­com­pense the proud.