It is Finished
Upon the cross a figure hangs
Marred past all recognition,
His quiet strength still evident
Despite His pained condition.
He lifts His head, eye burning bright,
And calls forth, “It is finished!”
He bows His head and breathes His last –
His power undiminished.
In those three words stand all my hope,
My life is anchored to them,
For in them rests my faith and trust
That I’m forgiven in Him.
His perfect life, His perfect death,
His perfect resurrection
Stand to proclaim my soul is free –
Sweet, solemn declaration.
The Author of my faith, He planned
A way to buy my freedom;
Its Finisher, He came and gave
Himself my costly ransom.
Ah, words of life! I love to hear
Once more their strain repeated,
For “It is finished!” I am free!
My pardon is completed!
Christina Joy Hommes
