The Old Rugged Cross

On the bank of the river, down an old dirt road

Stood an old rugged cross, built a century ago.

The symbol of our Savior, who bled and died,

Delivering us from our sins, while to His Father He cried.

An old church once called this town its home;

They built the cross on their land to make their faith known.

The church was worn down by the weather and storms,

But there, the cross stood with a message of its own.

Many knelt before its presence in joy and pain,

And took refuge in the Man, who on the cross was slain.

It saw years pass by, and this nation start to change;

Faithful ones who died, and the young who dealt with shame,

Yet it was always there, even in the darkest hour

When the people were in need of its cleansing power.

It saw the evil of men, the wrong and the right,

And the passion of those strengthened by its light.

Then one day a young boy lost all he had known,

Drifting aimlessly, and lost without a home.

He had passed that old cross at least a hundred times

Until he couldn’t hold it in, and at the foot he cried.

That’s when he heard a voice say, “Son you’re not on your own.

I’ll always be here, ready to welcome you home.

When your trials are over, and your journeys at its end,

Because you trusted in me I’ll let you in my friend.”

Well that all happened about twenty years ago

When I came to the cross without a road to hope.

Now the memory remains of when I was found

Beneath the shade of the dogwood that stood its ground.

A few days ago the city came and took it down;

Such a precious symbol of our little town.

But now I’ve built another cross in my own front yard

So the world will know what’s truly on my heart.

To the old rugged cross I promise to be true,

It gave me such hope when I didn’t think I could make it through.

Reviews

[Hoosier Belle]

You are a very wonderful writer, I like every word of thsi write. I give you an amen! ♥