Barbara Notestine Moulder (Forest, Virginia, USA)
Our Son - Your Son
Oh Lord, what lesson would you teach me now?
As low, beneath this burden I do bow
A heart near breaking, crying out for our son's life
Struggling to surrender and be free from strife.
To see the suffering of one so loved
Helpless, but serene and still
Submitting to the pain that man inflicts
Tears held at bay, one's bosom, terrors fill.
Yours was such a loving Father saw
The nail pierced hands and feet.
Agony etched the sky when you must turn away
No sin to see, borne that day by your son
On rugged Calvary.
Into your hands, we too commend our son!
The safest place he could ever be
As your son commended his own spirit on that day
Knowing, even as you turned away, you loved him still.
And we, though suffering takes its toll
Know full well, your tears do freely flow
Mingling with ours, and all whose painful path is laid
And yet Rejoice, knowing too . . . Sin's debt is Paid!
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.