Updated: Jul 1
Desperate times call for desperate measures, And hardly a time have I known more desperate than this.
Desperately I want to see your life restored – A friend so loved, now so lost; A breaking, raging soul, Sold out to hate what once it loved. And the worst of it is that I’m the cause.
Desperately I was trying to please you; Desperately I longed to do only what was right. But in the thick of it my decisions were clouded by night. And even with all the strength I could muster, I was mastered by darkness.
Desperate to win me, it wooed me in, And the mouths in all directions spoke a different word. And my ears were clogged to hear the truth. And my eyes saw only the treasures I longed for. And my feet hastened into suffering. And my hands held the sword of my undoing. And my heart marched to the beat of defeat. In my holy pursuit, I was wholly defiled.
Desperately now I look up to Mercy, Praying He’ll come and in His arms intertwine me. But more than that – oh, so much more – I pray He’ll right what I have made wrong; That His love would flow freely, As once did His blood; That He’ll shine down with favor And restore. Restore. Restore.
Restoration is a slippery thing. It is not in my power to grasp it. I try to take all my “desperate measures,” I try to heal hearts with my “good nature,” And I fail. That’s why I look outside myself.
Restoration comes from God alone. He chooses whom He wishes to save, He decides even the untimely fate. That’s why I plead for His grace! ‘Cause He’s the only one who can save me now.
“Desperate for You, God, I humble my heart. I realize I’m to blame, in part. So take all my shame And set me up on my feet; Heal the wounds that strike so deep And show us Your restoration. Restore us, God. Restore us. We are desperate for restoration.”