I may not look like much of a warrior.
I am told, there is beauty in my face.
Nevertheless, I’m in the Lord’s army.
It makes me a warrior of His grace.
The battle belongs to Him,
Victory is mine..praise the Lord,
Oh, praise the Lord, He took my place.
The battlefield of my mind may rage,
The Lord is mighty to save.
The Holy Spirit, in like a flood, war to wage.
Pleading His precious blood,
Filling me, me wave after wave.
No longer bound,
Being stronger, I’ve found,
With my Lord, a place.
He’s already defeated, every foe I face.
I may not look like a warrior,
His victory on the cross,
Puts my heart at ease, to give me rest.
In Him, I’m a warrior of His grace,
Beholding His beauty, I am truly blessed.
Others may fight, and and rage and rail.
Jesus came to give life and love eternal, to prevail.
No matter, the battles, bloodshed,
In travail, He paid with His blood, instead.
Free to accept and believe,
You may fight or struggle,
Do as you please,
But I am a warrior of His grace.
I win battles on my knees!