Friday, March 14, 2008
Because Lord, You died my death.
With Easter soon approaching, I began about thinking about all Jesus had to do that day on Calvary and also what a thing it was when He rose again.
As I was thinking about it all, this poem came to mind.
I don't feel the pain
Of nails in my hands.
I don't feel the shame
Of whips upon my naked skin.
I don't feel the loneliness
As I'm deserted by all my friends.
And I don't know the sting of dying
Because Lord, You died my death.
I don't feel the mocker's spit
Running down my face.
I don't feel the burning flames
Of hell's eternal fire.
I don't know the bondage of forever sin
For Lord, You set me free.
I'm no longer blind,
Lord, You let me see.
I, a sinner, condemned to die,
Now stand, unscarred, alive.
Because Jesus, fully God, fully man,
perfect, blameless, chose to die in my stead.
I don't know the sting of dying,
Because Lord You died my death,
And rose again.
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