He took the scorn that should have been mine.
The crown of thorns which pierced His brow.
Should have been mine to owe.

The beating which marred Him
beyond human recognition.
Should have been my sentence for sin.

He took the nails that should have been mine.
He carried the Cross which I should have borne.
It should have been I
who was...
mocked
scorned
whipped
stripped
wounded
abandoned.
Left.
To die.

But He chose to take my sentence.
My suffering.
My sin.
My shame.
So I could live.
In eternity with Him.
Oh, how great a Love is this!
That He would suffer such great pain.
For such an unworthy sinner as I.

I bow my knee and worship Him.
With tears of gratitude.
For my redemption.
He carried the Cross I should have borne.
No greater Love has ever been shown.

I bow my knee.
And worship Him.
For He took the sentence
that should have been mine.
And made it His own.
No greater Love.
Was ever.
Shown.