I should think of You more often
When I’m drowning in despair
But sometimes I’m just down so much
It seems nobody cares.
I’m lost in a world of bitterness,
Pain and suffering too
But if these people only knew
What You were going through.
You prayed that God would let You go
And miss the chance You had.
You knew He couldn’t do that
Because He was Your Dad.
He had a plan for You that day
The day You wore my crown
And I should think of You
Every time that I am down.
You suffered at the hands of those
Who wanted You to die
They took a vote and guess who won?
That big Barabbus guy.
Then they stripped You of Your clothes
And everything else they could
They spit on You and called You names
That really weren’t good.
They laughed and scorned and mocked Your name
You knew it must be done.
Because they didn’t believe You are
God’s One and Only Son.
Then they beat and whipped You ’till You bled
And no one shed a tear.
They placed the crown upon Your head
And again began to jeer.
They made You trudge on down that road
Each step a painful one.
I can only imagine how You felt.
That cross must have weighed a ton.
You arrived at the hillside dripping
All beaten and half dead
They laid You out upon the wood
The crown still on Your head.
They took each of Your loving arms
And nailed them to the tree
Then they made You a spectacle
A sight for all to see.
They nailed a sign above Your head
And waited for the time
When You would breathe Your final breath
Though You hadn’t done a crime.
As You hanged upon that rugged cross,
God’s One and Only Son
You cried out to the Father
“Forgive them, they don’t know what they’ve done.”
Closing Your eyes You breathed once more
Your last and final breath
You did all this to save the ones
Who choreographed Your death.
And here I am feeling down and out
Afraid no one will care
After all that You’ve been through for me
That’s not really fair.
I’m sorry Lord, for what I’ve done
And all the times I’ve strayed
I can’t believe that I am worth
The expensive price You paid.
I promise Lord, that I will change
Though I know it will be tough
Please help me to rid myself
Of all that yucky stuff.
The hurt, the pain, the bitterness
That lingers deep inside,
The lust, the lies, the suffering
And my precious pride.
Please help me Lord, to be like You
In every way I can
Help me Lord, to do Your Will
And not the will of man.
And Lord, when I am down and out
Remind me of the time
That You suffered a painful death
Because of Love . . . Your crime.
– Written by Jennifer M. Darling at age 18
– Copyright 1998 by Jennifer M. Darling