WHY DID YOU DO IT?
Oh, Lord, why
did You do it? How could You die
for me?
How could You suffer on the cross,
as You did at Calvary?
When I think of how they scourged
you, and beat You black and blue,
I realise that punishment was
meant for me, not You.
When I think about the crown of
thorns, so jagged and so
cruel,
I wonder why You took that shame
for this poor, misguided fool.
I think about those massive nails
driven in Your hands and feet,
And
wonder why You bore that pain for
a liar and a cheat.
Why did You let them pierce Your
side and Your blood
pour to the
ground?
Why did You take the jibes and
jeers of the people gathered
round?
Why did You ask Your Father to
forgive them for what they'd done?
For they had blatantly murdered
His one and only Son.
"My precious child, don't you see,
I did it all for you,
So you'd be free of sin and shame,
and could be born anew.
I'm not like others in your life;
my love for you will never end,
And you can always trust in me to
be your faithful friend.
I'll be the lamp to guide your way
when you are lonely and
afraid,
And you can always count on me to
keep the promises I've made.
When storms are raging all around
I'll guide you safely through,
And when your strength is failing,
your courage I'll renew.
I'll be your fortress, safe and
strong, when your foes are all
around,
And by the power of sin and death
you are no longer bound.
When pain and sorrow fill your
heart, my joy will make you
strong,
And fear and doubt will have to
flee, for in my child they don't
belong.
My blood was shed to wash you
clean, and cleanse you from your
sin,
And when you ask me to forgive,
your new life can begin.
So reach out to me, my precious
child, and give to me your heart,
And I will always be with you, and
from your side will not depart."
Copyright ©
1998 Christine Chipman. All rights
reserved.
If
you enjoyed my poem, please
it with a friend
