We’ve little idea, O Lord, of limitless power —
humans who’re bound by sight and flesh —
we who fall and fail — the sour
taste of defeat in our mouth still fresh.

Rock by rock, and clod by flying clod,
the mountain moves to fall in the sea —
and brick by towered brick, we’re awed,
in growing faith, by the mustard tree.

Omnipotent God — I believe —
forgive my unbelief —
in Christ all things we can achieve —
a hundredfold of harvest sheaf.