Savior

This is the second poem I wrote last night. 

Your arms are open wide,

showing Your nail pierced hands.

And I come,

falling into Your arms 

just to be held,

comforted by 

Your grace 

and Your love 

that You've lavished upon me. 

Jesus Christ,

You wore my crown of thorns 

You bore my cross

and they nailed You to it.

You suffered willingly,

for me, the sinner that

 didn't deserve it. 

You bore my weight 

You bore my guilt

the only perfect man in all of history,

the Son of God,

You felt all of my shame,

all of my sorrows,

all of my sins, all of my guilt

so that I can run to You,

Jesus my Savior,

unashamed, with no guilt,

so that You can now hold me 

in Your loving arms

and so that You can take my hand 

and lead me with 

Your nail pierced hands. 

And hallelujah! You rose 

three days after death,

You rose again! 

Death has no victory 

death has no sting

for You defeated the grave 

and rose victorious!