My Pride is He who hears me when I cry in distress;
Reaches out His hand to pull me from this sea of misery;
Cleanses me of iniquity with His blood;
Calls me His own and makes me His heir.
What use is pride, if it’s not in the Almighty;
The King, the Creator, my Peace, my Saviour;
In whose Presence all knees must bow;
Whose Words can still the fiercest of storms?
Where can my pride be, if not in He who made me;
And makes me whole and raises me high, up and above,
All frailty and fear and shame and eternal death;
Stills my heart, gives me joy and makes all things new?
My pride will be in His promises;
Fulfilled in faith and granted by grace;
Purpose and plans for me for His glory;
The pain I might bear and bear gladly.
My pride is the Lord;
In His Love for me;
In His Sacrifice for me;
In the Joy I have in His presence.