The Perfect One bears imperfection.
The Spotless One bears the stain.
The Living One enters the tomb.
The Dying One lives again.
The One who created me
bids me to come.
Come to the cross.
Come to His Son.
All of my life without Him is vain.
All of eternity with Him is my gain.
The One who created the sun and the moon,
is wonderfully formed in the virgin's womb.
The One who sees all as but dust on the scales,
stoops down and stutters, He suffers the nails.
Wrath is poured out, we never will fathom
the depth of the love of our Perfect Ransom.
The One who created me
bids me to come.
Come to the cross.
Come to His Son.
All of my life without Him is vain.
All of eternity with Him is my gain.
The One who will judge gives grace ever flowing.
The Pure One will judge in truth, fully knowing.
Where will you stand on that fateful day?
Will you stand in His light, or be cast away?
The One who created me
bids me to come.
Come to the cross.
Come to His Son.
All of my life without Him is vain.
All of eternity with Him is my gain.
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I wrote this on the occasion of my 10th wedding anniversary. Is there a musician out there willing to bend their talents and compose a tune?
