I see His nail-scarred hands

the crown upon His head.

Why was it He to suffer

why not me instead?

 

He was not of wrongdoing

but took the place for me.

He bore my sin and sorrow

That I could be set free.

 

He took the beatings and the lashes

and said not a word in vain.

He walked the road to Calvary

bearing my guilt and shame.

 

They spat, called names and mocked Him

they nailed His hands and feet.

As He hung on the old rugged cross

for mockers to believe defeat.

 

But NO! His death was a victory

a hope forevermore.

For you and me in eternity

As He opened up Heaven’s door!

 

by Del Bates