Grace Poem by Isadora Quagmire

Across the ground our Savior's blood did flow,
As He bowed His head in greatest woe,
His body racked with pain no mortal will ever know,
The beloved son of God was brought low,
Under the rolling dark tide of death,
His sacrifice and service were perfect—to the final breath,
He died for the murderer, the thief, the convicted,
When we could not love—He for love was afflicted,
When we were dead in sins—facedown in the waters of death,
He stooped and lifted us with His pierced hands—and gave us breath.
We could not by any measure of good deeds—deliver our own souls,
It was our Savior, Jesus Christ who took us as we are—broken—and made us whole,
To Him be all glory—forever and ever—let us His praises sing,
Let us praise our risen Savior and mediator—Heaven's High King!

-Isadora E. Quagmire