The Cross

I watched You in the garden as You went to pray.
I watched the anguish as blood dripped down.
I watched You in Your innocence,
prepare for the Cross.
You gained strength from your Father
so You could endure the price.
You took all the scoffing, mocking, and shame.
The shame of my sin on display.
You took every lash, every hit, and every nail
as You quietly proclaimed the mercies of God.
You took every punishment that man could impart.
And when man’s punishment ended,
the Father’s would start.
As You hung on that Cross,
the Father darkened the sky
and turned His face away.
For even He couldn’t bear to watch
the fury and wrath ignited on His One Precious Son.
Sorrowful love and mercy flowed down.
The sin you carried that didn’t belong to You
pierced harder than any nail ever could.
On that Cross, You were wholly forsaken by the One that You loved.
But the job had to be done.
And You complied until the end.
And finally, it was finished.
The Perfect Sacrifice was now complete.
They’d take down Your body, anoint it, and weep.
They’d place it in a tomb,
not knowing what to think.
But on that infamous third day,
You rose again, exactly as You had said.
Hallelujah! Because of You,
I am now completely free!