My heart belongs to Jesus,
There’s no other love like Him.
I suppose there are special loves,
And surely, we love them.
Who compares to the one,
Who came and did for me,
What no one else could have,
Or ever would have done?
We know not the cruelty, the depths of His despair,
And yet, He went willingly,
And with love for me.
He was lying there.
In my mind’s eye,
I can hear, a swearing Roman guard,
Driving a spike through His hand,
The hammer, hitting hard.
The Old Rugged Cross,
Rough upon His back in ruin,
From scourging and attack.
Imagine plucking His beard,
Beaten, spat upon…..gasping breath He drew in.
A loving Lord who should have been upon His throne,
Instead He bled for me, and the pain He endured!
So that my pain and sickness would be cured.
How dare anyone take lightly,
Such a gift as Jesus…
And even now, He’d answer prayer, He wants to please us,
If we can love, His love, quiet and still.
The touch of Jesus, the touch of love.
He has my heart and always will.