The whip didn

 


The whip didnít make Me guilty;
Those stripes were healing streams.
The hands Pilate washed so diligently
Still remained unclean.

The nails that were driven through My flesh
Werenít what held Me to the cross;
It was the Love I hold for each of your souls
That brought me gain through loss.

Did you know that angels were watching?
One word and they would have come;
One inkling that I was unwilling
Angel wings would have born me Home!

And man would have died still needing
My perfect sacrifice....
Condemned by birth to the fires of Hell,
Nothing else could pay the price.

My Fatherís beloved was unworthy;
Yet I gave Him great joy with My choice.
Constrained by Our love for the earthlings,
I yielded Myself without voice.

Silent I stood before Powers
That really had none at all,
So, their nails never held me one second.
I only was held Ö by Loveís call.


© 2013by Joan Clifton Costner
Under His Wings 
Heavenly Poetry

 

 

                          

    

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