THY GIFT

When I pause to reflect
To see and understand
That Christ came in the form of clay
To bear the sins of man
He was so humble and so meek
Most failed to honor Him
Yet on His head He gladly bore
All our secret sins
What wondrous love You displayed
To see His crown adorned
Not with gold, or precious jewels
But with cruel thorns!
Was it not enough that You had
To watch Him die that day?
Enduring all the jeers
That we threw His way?
Though all the world go down to hell,
And never lift its eyes
One can but wonder why You'd pay
Such an awful price!
So hear us Lord and speed Thy help
And grant us hearing ears
For if Thy gift, - we still refuse
What horrors follow near?

...What wrath?
...What pain?
...What fears?

Copyright 2007/Stan Simons ASCAP