The battle is fierce-
It yieldeth much tears-
For we wrestle not they
Who fall easy when we sway.
Their blows they rain down,
Blood bleaches our gown.
But they fight and prevail not
For by his blood we are bought.
Our loins are girded with truth,
So conquer we the evil brute.
Our helmet of salvation is sure,
Our safety in the Lord is pure.
When blows adorn our breast,
Our souls shall be at rest.
For our firm breastplate,
From righteousness ‘twas create.
We have we the shield of faith
That hands us our enemies’ gate.
By the Sword of the Spirit,
Our enemies we defeat.
We trample snakes and scorpions,
Boldly waiting to battle lions,
And we walk on coals with ease
For our feet are sandalled with peace.
So we fear not the valleys of death;
No for danger or pestilence fret-
Knowing we fight not flesh and blood.
Yes, our hope lies in Our God!
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.