The day had come, the sentence made known, The fatal order was given,
That Jesus Christ, the Son of God, The nails in whom would be driven,
Would be lifted up, condemned to death, By those who were misgiven.
On my way to Jerusalem that day, I watched the fateful march,
Along the streets and through the city walls they went, All under the soldier’s charge.
I saw one who suffered more than all, Who from the crowd stood apart.
The terrible strain of the preceding hours, The agony already felt.
It was thought that He could bear no more, And down on one knee He knelt.
The solders summoned me to come, Ordered me to surrender help.
I lifted up the mighty cross, Upon my back it went. Blood from His hands was now on mine,
From drops He’d already spent. Why was this man condemned to bleed and die.
I did not understand.
I followed His footsteps one by one, To the place called Calvary.
The nails were forced in His hands and feet For all who came to see.
They raised Him up to suffer death, His final act would be.
I saw Him look around, At those who carried out their task. He prayed for them so lovingly;
No mercy He did ask. They crucified the Lamb of God; I understood at last.
On My Way