You didn’t have to choose this road,
When wounded, fallen child did run,
Yet back to Father lift.
You made him to enjoy your life,
And with his Father talk,
And through the breeze and cool of eve,
In garden with Him walk.
Yet from such love he turned his gaze
And saw that cloying tree.
Forgot your gift, your word, your care.
To fatal fruit did flee.
He stretched his hand and took that fruit,
From your arms turned away.
Incurred for self eternal grief,
A debt he ne’er could pay.
You could have let him face his crime,
And die in filth of sin,
But you did choose to bring him back
To your embrace again.
Yet still you’d every right to choose
An easy, costless way
To bring this rebel son back home,
His shameless sin repay.
Enough to merely will this cure,
Desiring from afar,
And he would stand as did before,
Freed from blackened scar.
Beyond yet still, for you did choose
Yourself to take the blame.
A fearful, anguished, horrid price
To take away our shame.
Oh thank you, Jesus, bursting Heart.
It didn’t have to be.
Mysterious love, above, beyond,
Your Passion pure for me.
I’ll never know just what it means,
This Love that carried through
Such undeserved Redemptive work
To bring me back to you.