Unbelief Is a Barren Field

Unbelief is a barren field
In a strange land: nothing lives there.
Unbelief is a deep hole
Full of heavy clay: I don’t want to be there.
I will rise up from my unbelief,
Up to the place of faith;
To fly up high on eagle’s wings
By grace.
I will fan the flame of faith,
fan the flame of faith,
Fan the flame of faith again. (Repeat)
Lost hope is a weary mind,
It’s a sickened heart, a stolen vision.
Lost hope is a downcast soul,
It’s the bitter taste of disappointment.
But I know a hope that is coming,
Hope that is a tree of life.
So I’m trusting in the living hope,
Jesus Christ.

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