I saw the blood stained hands caress the wood
The fingers traced the path of knots and grain
He did not move, in quiet solace stood
And braced his tender heart to bear the pain
The path He walked was coming to its end
He would surrender to this ugly death
His battered limbs to wood and nails would bend
And watched by all He’d yield his final breath
Some other son, spoke to his father’s ear
“We have the wood, but have no lamb to give”
God has supplied and all has been made clear
This is the lamb that dies that we might live
The cross that He embraced must be my own
If I would stand as His before His throne
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Lovely poem. He willingly went to the cross and was forsaken by God so that His own could have the absolute guaranty that they will never be forsaken by God from time throughout vast the vast expanse of eternity. Marvelous to know Him as one'Savior.
