Even in the darkest night,
When I just turn and toss,
When all seems hopeless, nothing’s right,
I remember Jesus’ cross.
That beam of lumber cut to size,
Too heavy to be borne
By One who stepped to Calvary’s call
Beaten, mocked, and scorned.
In the shadow of that cross,
How can I complain?
I have not sweat great drops of blood,
I’ve not endured such pain.
I’ve had no nails pierce tender flesh,
And no one’s spit on me.
No soldier’s opened up my back,
Nor stabbed my side with glee.
No jeering crowd shouts, “Crucify!”
Such loneliness I can’t feel.
Yet love for me was the reason why
He bled, and I was healed.
And by His stripes we are healed. – Isaiah 53:5 (NKJV)
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son,
that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
–John 3:16 (NKJV)
(c) 1997 by Michele T. Huey. All rights reserved.