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Nothing can I boast in
At God’s perfect timing
Christ died for fallen man.
He wore a crown of thorns,
Nails driven through His
hands.
Christ willingly endured it,
To death He chose to go.
He broke His body for us,
Shed blood to make us
whole.
Nothing can I boast in,
My life is scarred with sin.
My works are filthy rags,
No merit can I
bring.
Yet mercy filled Christ’s heart,
Love took Him to the tree.
It’s grace alone which saves me;
Christ’s blood that sets me
free.
So if I am to boast,
I’ll speak of my disgrace.
For my weak self displays
The power of God’s
grace.
Christ’s Spirit works within me,
In weakness He is strong.
So I look to my Savior
To safely bring me
home.
Nothing can I boast in,
My life is scarred with sin.
My works are filthy rags,
No merit can I
bring.
Yet mercy filled Christ’s heart,
Love took Him to the tree.
It’s grace alone which saves me;
Christ’s blood that sets me
free.
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