Oh to Believe

Oh to have made the manger,

Where the Lord of Lords did lie,

To create the very first bed,

To usher in a life born to die

Oh to construct the ship,

Where He crossed across the sea,

To supply the tools He required

How blessed the hands must be

Oh to weave to crown of thorns,

That would grace my King's face,

To be so close to my God

Maliciously basking in his precious grace

Oh to hold the lash,

That let Him bleed for me,

To open the 40 stripes on his back,

What a gift, they could not see

Oh to scrawl the letter above his head,

Mocking the truth, King of Jews,

To proclaim, however tauntingly,

The truth He gave, they did not choose

Oh to hammer in the nails

That secured His place for death

To be placed on a blessed hill,

From life to final breath

Oh to craft the cross,

Where my king, my savior died

To mold the beams together

Where my ransom was supplied

Oh to roll the stone away,

That removed death's painful sting

To watch as Christ walked in victory

To Him, I owe everything

Oh to see His face waiting,

Standing at the pearled gates

To hear “Well done, faithful servant”

And enter into heaven, singing His praise