My Sin

I don’t see things the way God does; my standards aren’t the same
But when I think of all Christ bore my head I bow with shame.

How could I with an earthly mind think sin is not so bad,
When He in loneliness and shame bore all the sin I had.

Such was the awfulness of it, the sun did hide its face.
In darkness all the wrath of God He suffered in my place.

The sufferings of that perfect Man who died upon the tree,
Alone, forsaken by His God: all that, all that for me.

My heart is deeply touched within, so very much I owe;
My sin demanded all He had that I to heaven might go.