Sometimes I must be a nail in his hand
Sometimes a thorn on his brow
Why he should love me I can't understand
But he's even blessing me now

And I see his glory and I feel his power
His love wings me up to you I walk on the cloud
Sometimes less than serving always undeserving
He's even blessing me now

So why should we struggle or settle for less
And just wait for the sweet bye and bye
When we are his children we're abundantly blessed
We're the apple of our fathers' eye

by the Hinsons