I dare not tell you what I am, but what I wish to be;
To follow God’s redeeming Lamb Who gave His life for me.
Once lived a man, His name was Jesus, behold the Son of God.
In spite of all the things He did, they thought He was a fraud.
The people wished to make God suffer and hung Him on a tree.
Not knowing it was for their sakes that God endured such agony.
On a hill stands a wooden cross, of which I write this song.
The man on it; the very same who cleansed me of my wrong.
The thorns, the nails, I can’t make up for; I helped to drive them in.
And how is it that Jesus’ blood was spilt for my own sin.
I; a rock, and stained in crimson, no hope for me there was.
Before my Savior’s resurrection, I bore the guilt of His blood.
Worldly things once were my passion, sparkling in their estate,
But Jesus showed me His compassion and freed me from sin’s bait.
Helpless as I am, still Jesus forgives me of my debt;
Changing sunset into sunrise; His grace can’t be offset.
Now Jesus alone matters to me; all I’ll ever want
Is like Him forever to be, no matter what the taunt
A Christian poem by: Jonathan Meeker