In youth, I thought with truth in hand, 
And words that pounded like a drum, 
I'd make them see, I'd make them understand, 
And bring them all to kingdom come.

But in my zeal, I couldn't see, 
That it was not my strength that mattered, 
But the Lord's sovereignty, that held the key, 
His power, that was not to be battered.

Like Lydia, the seller of purple, 
Whose heart the Lord had opened wide, 
She listened to the words of Paul, 
And in the truth, she did abide.

We cannot beat the truth into minds, 
We cannot scare or threaten souls, 
Only the Spirit of the Lord, 
Can make the truth take its tolls.

We must trust in the Lord's sovereignty, 
And rest in His control, 
Gently present the truth in love, 
And wait for hearts to be made whole.

Like hungry chickens fed with care, 
Needy sinners will come to partake, 
In the satisfying food of the Gospel, 
The Lord will lead them, for His sake.