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What good is a story that only few can understand?
Why would I reach when there's no extended hand?
How can I see without reflection
Who I really am?
There's a knowing in us deep inside.
"There's something, my seeking spirit cried,
Somewhere, someone has
The answers to my life".
Then I sought and found grace
T'was so simple, to take hold of-
From the lowest bough
On the highest tree
That bears for all
The fruit of love.
Sown with incorruptible seed,
On the banks of the river of life,
Immovable, unyielding
To adversity's storms and strife.
Here is sustenance for the soul,
Shade from the desert sun,
Balm for the wounded heart,
And rest for the weak and weary one.
Here on this tree my Savior died.
Here my sins were crucified.
A story this child can understand,
Mercifully told by outstretched hands.
I found myself in the tears on his face.
I found life's answer
On this tree
Called
Grace.
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