If all of my patients survive
If I only made perfect decisions
If those near death were still alive
I would glory in my own great precision
If all of the wounds I created
Were perfect in size and in length
If no flesh was crushed or macerated
I would have perfect knowledge and strength
If I never had to deal with a death
If I never had to confront pain and sorrow
If I never had to pronounce the last breath
I could let Jesus some of my own wisdom borrow
Lazarus though once raised life still ended
And those healed by the Savior’s strong hand
Disease in remission, fevers cooled, bones mended
Still faced illness and perished from the land
If I did not know Jesus’ comfort and care
If I relied on my own knowledge and reason
I would glory in myself without prayer
And find no one to comfort me in my season
Yes my season of illness and death does draw nearer
Each breath that I take is one less
With each heartbeat eternity is much clearer
So I must ask my sweet Savior to bless
Don’t move over Jesus, I’m too weak
Take center stage take control as You will
Remind me again please do speak
I’ll stand quiet, I’ll submit, I’ll be still
Isa 42:8 I am the LORD: that is my name: and my glory will I not give to another, neither my praise to graven images.