Shannon Ashby 10-21-2003
The day Judas betrayed you with a kiss,
Was Your last day which You couldn't remiss.
The painful death you'd endure that day,
Was the cost of our sin that You would pay.
You were beaten and mocked beyond recognition,
You couldn't carry the cross from Your bad condition.
They stripped You of Your clothes which they just gave You,
Reopened those wounds that You had to live through.
The soldiers nailed You to the cross,
You felt all our pain, Your Father was lost.
Those giant spikes shoved in Your feet and hands,
Is pain that no one really understands.
Taking a breath up there was such a task,
"Are You the Son of God?" they would taunt and ask.
You'd lift up on Your nailed feet for air,
And suffer when You'd use Your wrists as they'd tear.
You'd have to trade breathing for pain and exhaustion,
The shallow breathing caused Your lungs to cave in.
As You took Your last painful breath,
The sky turned black from Your undeserved death.
They stabbed Your heart, blood mixed with water,
You were dead, Jesus, lead to the slaughter.
But You even conquered death itself,
Rose three days later to prove Yourself.
"The Messiah has risen!" the angel proclaimed,
The horrible death is over and no one You blamed.
The pain, the trauma, the sickness, the madness,
It's over now, and You've taken away sinner's sadness.
Jesus, how could You do this for me?
Just how unthankful can one person be?
I'm a sinner and I reek of humanity,
I get caught in the world, caught in the vanity.
Thank You, Jesus, for Your saving grace,
I don't deserve heaven, such a wonderful place.
I'm crimson red from my sin and my hate,
Thank You, Jesus, for saving me from my fate.