INSTEAD

He stretched forth nail scarred
hands to me
when I would have drowned
in sin's stormy sea-

such gentle hands but,
oh so strong
that once were pierced for all the things
I've done wrong.

As I looked upon
His compassionate face,
overwhelmed by
His gift of grace,

He brought me safe
to salvation's shore
and generously forgave
all I'd been before.

There on His brow where once
the thorny crown was placed
were the tiny lines
those thorns had traced.

I could only stand in awe
and wonder why
He became the Sacrifice f
or a creature such as I.

It was for my sins
He left His rightful throne
that I might someday claim
His gift of salvation for my own.

And though I surely helped
to set that mocking crown upon His head,
rather than the reproach I deserve-
He gave His life for me instead.

CJN