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by Deborah Ann Belka
4/01/2011 / Poetry
Guilt was erased from us that day,
and for our souls, Jesus died and bled.
When the thorns of our unrighteousness,
were crowned, around His perfect head.
Our vile sins are the thrash marks,
that were flogged deep into His chest.
The Son of God, became our justification,
and paid the price, for our eternal rest.
Bankrupt lives, on top of faithful shoulders,
our faults and unbelief, He had to bear.
The burden of each of our transgressions,
on the cross He had to wear.
Our hopelessness was sealed and nailed,
then hung upon that wooden bar.
Spikes driven into His hands and feet,
the Lamb of God, became our wayward scar.
The debt of our blame and condemnation,
was plunged deep into His forgiving side.
Piercing through to heaven's gate,
so He could one day, receive His faithful bride.
Our rebellious, wicked, evil ways,
caught up to Him, on that promised day.
When at last it was finally over,
His mercy became for us, the only way.
Free, unmerited, not deserving favor,
granted by God's grace, and grace alone.
His work on the cross finally finished,
and now He sits, on His Father's throne.
Oh, that glorious, wonderful day,
when Christ rose from the grave.
Bankrupt lives, now rich and lush,
for His life ~ to all ~ He gave.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! Click here and TRUST JESUS NOW
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