Chief of Sinners though I Be

Chief of sinners though I be,
   Jesus shed His blood for me,
Died that I might live on high,
   Lives that I might never die.
As the branch is to the vine,
   I am His, and He is mine.

Chief of sinners though I be,
   Christ is All-in-All to me;
All my wants to Him are known,
   All my sorrows are His own.
He sustains the hidden life
   Safe with Him from earthly strife.

O my Savior, help afford
   By Your Spirit and Your Word!
When my wayward heart would stray,
   Keep me in the narrow way;
Grace in time of need supply
   While I live and when I die.
                       -William McComb, 1793-c.1870

With loving thoughts of childhood friends Debbie and Ruth Ellen, who gave me more patience and grace than I ever could deserve and many cherished memories of times long ago, in a little town in Ohio. (I still use my very first sewing box, given to me by Debbie, and wear the birthday necklace from time to time, given to me by Ruth Ellen when we were youngsters) God grant them grace and bless them.