Amongst the garden, there You made
No senseless, suckling babes,
But man of thought, and heart, and will.
Knowing our path, but walking it still
Alongside our wandering, winding arrogance
Relationship perverted into petulance.
Lifting our faces from self-made mires.
Lifting our nobler senses, our deepest desires,
To gaze at the beauty we discarded.
Standing firm so we are guarded
From the wrath we so justly deserve;
Where we should be punished, You preserve.
Until that burning moment of history
When You became a broken body,
The purest and ultimate sacrifice: God and man;
Your deliverance apportioned before we began,
Before we spurned our gentlest maker, our whole,
And the only true lover of our souls.
How that moment burns and smolders,
Consuming every moment before and after,
Radiating through space, and time,
Overshadowing man’s timeline
With fierce love, and unmatchable passion,
Your very flesh an unbreachable bastion
For Your beloved redeemed.
You call us loved, forgiven, clean
You call us heirs to the throne
We would have overthrown;
We would have destroyed, or subdued,
If we were able to stand before You
On any other ground but the one You laid:
The blood ransom You paid,
The Source of Life dissolving the darkest death,
From inside with one final breath
Exhaled in misery,
And stilled,
and inhaled again in victory.
Ascended again to supremacy
Holiness embodied, paying the penalty
To fulfill the law, to gather Your little ones,
Your enemies turned to daughters and sons,
Into Your beating, burning heart,
To never again be parted,
But joined to You, the Eternal One.
viewingcamelot 