For Me
On a hillside in a garden long ago,
 Knelt the Savior alone to pray;
Heavy-hearted, concerned for His fate, we know:
 “Father, let this cup pass away…”

For thirty-three years He had lived without sin
 In the face of temptations, sore,
Now He’d die for the wrongs done by other men,
 Holy blood from His veins would pour.

For the Jews who for His life with one voice cried,
 “Away with Him, He’s not our king!”
On the cruel cross He’d soon be crucified,
 That new life to them He might bring.

For the Romans who nailed His hands to the tree
 Of Calvary on that sad day,
He would offer His life that they might be free --
 Even their debt He died to pay.

For the wicked men who lived in ages past,
 (And the ones who are yet to come),
The Lord let those sinful ones bind His hands fast,
 To their evil will He succumbed.

But we mustn’t forget:  It wasn’t just “they”
 For whom He went to Calvary,
Hard though it be, still I must honestly say:
 “On the cross Jesus died for me.”

My sins drove the nails in the Precious Lord’s Hands,
 Placed the crown of thorns on His brow;
I must do whatever it is He demands,
 Without Him where would I be now?

For He paid the price that I never could pay,
 He did what I never could do;
The blood that He shed now takes my sins away,
 How could I to Him be untrue?

To “the place of the skull” my blessed Lord went,
 He went so I wouldn’t have to…
For my sins on that day the Lord’s blood was spent:
 I’ll give Him now what He is due.

He calls me to walk in the Light of His Word,
 And He bids me obey His Will;
The spark of life His blood in my heart once stirred:
 And that life lives on in me still.

I’m happy to do what I’m asked by my Friend,
 I trust that I’ll meet Him on high;
Because of Him I fear not facing life’s end,
 For I know that He’s ever nigh.

H. L. Gradowith


 Gradowith Poems Archive

 Gradowiths Homepage

Hosted by