malady, my monster, my foe, my viper
Blessed Lord Jesus,
Before Your cross I kneel and see . . .
the heinousness of my sin,
my iniquity that caused You to be made a curse,
the evil that excites the severity of divine wrath.
Show me the enormity of my guilt by . . .
Your crown of thorns,
Your pierced hands and feet,
Your bruised body,
Your dying cries.
Infinite must be the evil and guilt--
which demands such a price! Sin is . . .
my malady, my monster, my foe, my viper,
born in my birth,
alive in my life,
strong in my character,
dominating my faculties,
following me as a shadow,
intermingling with my every thought,
the chain which holds my soul captive.
Sinner that I am, why should . . .
the sun give me light,
the air supply breath,
the earth bear my tread,
its fruits nourish me,
its creatures serve my needs?
Yet Your compassion yearns over me,
Your heart hastens to my rescue,
Your love endured my curse,
Your mercy bore my deserved stripes.
Let me walk humbly . . .
in the lowest depths of humiliation,
bathed in Your blood,
tender of conscience,
triumphing gloriously, as an heir of salvation.