Sacrificial love. |
Thine own hands, worn from years working with them and wood Carried the cross that thou wouldst die upon, in a manner in which no one should I saw mine self stand among the crowd, watching as thou didst stumble by Heard mine shouts among theirs, saying “Crucify, crucify” But thy gentle and quiet self, they led thee on to be slain Thy sacrifice near o’erlooked, though all was for the sinner’s gain A breathless silence rippled o’er the crowd, as thine very own breath ceased Would that I could take it back, and find another way to be appeased Bloodlust for death of self and Savior, first I was satiated then appalled Why didst thou take mine stripes as thine own, when I alone deserved to fall? I killed my Lamb, slaughtered my Savior by mine own filthy hands The perfect sacrifice still, fully God yet Son of Man Thou ripped my old self from me as thine own flesh was stripped, and the blood flowed Yet ‘twas not all mine but thine, as life in death thy love showed Our blood mingled and flooded my black soul, leaving paths of white in its wake Like a lily blooms, a pure flag of surrender didst my spirit take As my tremb’ling reach met thy wounds, I could not see Mine doubt I worked through, but the guilt obscured mine eyes from thee Thine own pain was meant for me, but thou didst take it to cure mine strife Though I did not ask, one sweet act of love and death saved my life Thou didst raise mine face to peer into mine eyes, and thy smile sweet Thou kept drying mine tears, til thine eyes could I meet For only with thee could e’er such things take place, by thy light Thy healing power, thy crimson pulse didst turn my black soul to white |