THE CROSS MY DELIVERER

A ragged cross meant for the condemned,
He was beaten and oppressed,
Holy and begotten son named with sinners,
O tis that I can be delivered.

He was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
He was beaten and nailed by the Soldiers,
Yet no word was uttered,
That from curse I might be delivered.

For my sin He was forsaken by His Father,
He groaned as His life was surrendered,
He descended into Hell in power,
And death for me was conquered.

For many years I have been a wanderer,
Ruled, oppressed and battered,
Judged by ancient sins of Fathers,
Till I met the cross and surrendered.

I still do not know what my sin cost,
I still cannot explain how I got saved,
I only believed the message of the cross,
And my life had never remained the same.

I'm still being worked on by my deliverer,
Till from self I am delivered,
Till I fully shed the life of the old man,
And in me resides the fullness of the new man.

Written by oguntola oyinkansola