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Given time, I'd only waste it all away.
I do not deserve to live even one more day.
Given talent, I would spend it on my pride.
I am such a sinful wretch; yet I choose to hide.
Given power, I would work my selfish will.
How can God give life to one only fit to kill?
How can God give life to one only fit to kill?
He calls me by my name.
He tells me, child, arise!
I'll never be the same:
I have looked into His eyes.
Now I see the one who died upon the cross;
All that I had counted gain there was counted loss.
Now I have no reason, nothing left to hide:
I'm the one deserving death; I'm the one who died.
Now my eyes are clearing--now I start to see
Everything that Jesus was, God is making me.
Everything that Jesus was, God is making me!