(By Rachel Joyce)
With indignation, they scoffed,
“What a waste!
It could have been sold
For a high price
And given to the poor.”
Their critical words cut deeply.
They were Your
Closest friends, continually
With You, the ones You had chosen
For Your inner circle.
As Your daily companions,
They had watched You,
Perfect love and grace
And truth embodied
Living with them.
You had shared Your heart, shown
Them the Father,
And astounded them with
Your wisdom and miracles,
Your inexhaustible compassion.
But still they were blind,
Oblivious,
To the priceless treasure,
The inestimable worth
And value of You, Jesus.
How it must have hurt,
Oh, Savior Mine,
To have them think it a waste,
For them not to see
Your incomparable worth.
Yet louder in Your ears were
Your Father’s Words,
“This is my dearly loved Son
Who brings me great joy.”
You knew who You were.
And the singing of angel voices
In highest heaven
Echoed faintly in Your ears,
“Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord of glory.”
And You knew where You
Had come from
And where You were going,
Lord of glory, to bear my sin,
On that dark, lonely cross.
You took all my punishment,
All my shame,
And died the death I deserved,
So all that is left for me now
Is glory, forever with You.
I fall at your feet and pour out
All I have,
My worship, my praise to You,
Worthy One, glorious in beauty
And splendor, lover of my soul.