When sickness wastes this frame††††††


Don Fortner


(Tune: This Is My Fatherís World #39†††† SMD)


When sickness wastes this frame, Disease, or earthly pain,

As dust to dust returns again, The help of man is vain.

But, then, to turn to God In prayer in time of need,

To cast all care upon the Lord, Is to find help indeed.


My soul, this is your lot. Cling to the Lord by faith.

Heíll never leave you (doubt Him not) In sickness, pain, or death.

Christ is our faithful Friend, Who bore for us sinís curse.

In sickness He will condescend To be our tender Nurse.


Sufficient is His grace In health, sickness, and death,

To keep us and to give us peace Unto our dying breath.

And when the time has come To leave this pilgrim land,

By grace with Christ Iíll enter home, That house not made with hands!