There's no one great among us, We're nothing on our own;
We make mistakes we often slip, Just common flesh and bones.
I know I'll prove just what I say, I’m of a special kind;
When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.
A look of love was on His face, And the thorns on His head;
The blood that stained His scarlet robe, It stained it a crimson red.
I know His eyes were on the crowd that day, Yet He looked ahead in time;
When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.
He knew me, yet He loved me, He whose glory makes the heavens shine.
Unworthy of such mercy; When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.
When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.
[Written by: R. Hinson and M. Payne]
Isaiah 53:4-6 ... Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. ❤
