If Salvation Came From Working Hard

If salvation came from working hard,
From fighting well, and standing guard,
From covering flaws and hiding sins,
And acting like you're fine within.

If joy was found in leaps and bounds,
Past the one who slinks and frowns,
Past the many needing crowds,
To the ones who've got life figured out.

If Christ came to heal the well,
The ones who have no pain to tell,
The ones who never left at all,
Who don't know the scars of when you fall.

There would be no hope for me,
Crying out from broken knees,
Salvation comes from pain and hurt,
But the One's who died but left the dirt.

In His Shadow

I find rest in the shadow of Your wings,
In the wake of Your strength, in the presence of the King.
I find rest in the shadow of Your wings,
when I finally come home from my many wanderings.

I find comfort in knowing that I'm Yours,
In knowing that You love me when I'm covered in my sores.
I find comfort in knowing that I'm Yours,
I'm home in your arms when it rains, when it pours.

I find peace from the cross, where You died.
The cross where You bled, the cross where You cried.
I find peace from the cross where You died,
When I have nothing else, in it's shadow I will hide.

Why do I embrace the cros, when really I should hate it?
Embrace the same place in which God's glory appeared faded?
Why do I embrace the cross, when really I should hate it?
Because the grave that saves has always stayed, quite amazingly vacant.

So I will rejoice in the One who has blessed
Me with everything I need, comfort, peace, and rest.
Despite my insufficiencies, I always will attest,
to His affinity for healing, when all else seems messed.