T H R O U G H

No sparrow falls from heaven outside Your sight or care

How much more my worth than they You said

You have promised we'll know suffering, but no fear, You've overcome

That for those very wounds Your own have bled

And though my heart is grieved by the grip of sin and death   

My assurance now is this, and in this I find my rest 

That every cup of suffering passes through my Father's hands

Ordained by grace much deeper than any costless hope could grant

My own hands now rest open in the promise of Your reign

That to live is Christ on earth and to die shall be my gain