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How deep the Father's love for us.
How vast beyond all measure.
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss;
The Father turns His face away,
As wounds which mar the Chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory.
Behold the man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders.
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there,
Until it was accomplished.
His dying breath has brought me life,
I know that it is finished.
I will not boast in anything,
No gifts, no power, no wisdom.
But I will boast in Jesus Christ,
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart,
His wounds have paid my ransom
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart,
His wounds have paid my ransom.