He Bore the Cross for Me
Oh, what a lot of suffering
My Jesus bore for me –
How deep His anguished misery
Upon that awful tree!
He bore my sin with all its guilt
Alone upon that day;
He drank the wrath that I deserved
And felt God turn away.
He felt the scourge, the thorns, the nails,
He felt the shame, the scorn;
He was betrayed, denied, accused,
Abandoned, hated, torn.
Yet, though He knew that was the cost,
He bore the cross for me –
He chose to give His life for mine
So He could set me free.
Lord, thank You for a gift so great –
Your very life poured out –
So I could trust Your love for me
Without a single doubt.
My life and plans, my words and thoughts,
My works and all my songs
Combine to start the living praise
Which, Lord, to You belongs.
Christina Joy Hommes
