He was a Man
He did not seek the pain,
The crush of thorns
On His noble, godly brow.
He was a Man;
With mangled, whip-lashed back,
The One whose soul was pure,
Endured our lack;
Our burdens, shame and guilt.
He was a Man
Whose bloodied nail-ripped hands
Had healed, guided taught
And loved each one
Though wretched, heartsick, lost.
He was a Man
The cup He did not spurn
Though mocked by maddened mobs
Broken bleeding torn
Hung on a cursed cross.
He is our God
Weighed down by all our sin
He carried so much blame
So we could reach His Home
Forgiving through it all.
Oh Victory!
From a splendid throne
He rules
With power to set man free
From Satan' bonds so cruel.
THE RESSURRECTED KING!
Marilyn Friesen
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