Instead
    He stretched forth nail scarred hands to me
when I would have drowned in sin's stormy sea-
such gentle hands but, oh so strong
that once were pierced for all the things I've done wrong.

     As I looked upon His compassionate face,
overwhelmed by His gift of grace,
He brought me safe to salvation's shore
and generously forgave all I'd been before.

     There on His brow where once the thorny crown was placed
were the tiny lines those thorns had traced.
I could only stand in awe and wonder why
He became the Sacrifice for a creature such as I.

     It was for my sins He left His rightful throne
that I might someday claim His gift of salvation for my own.

     And though I surely helped to set that mocking crown upon His head,
rather than the reproach I deserve- He gave His life instead.

                                         Cynthia J. Nichols
                                                  1998
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