John 3:16
My sin, my sin, it grieves me so,
but to the cross my Christ did go.
My dying Lord bore all my sin,
my lasting soul for aye to win.
He rose the third day from the grave
to save me from chains that enslave.
Redeemed my life when just a boy,
that gifts He gave I’d serve, employ.
Though sin I see. He sees it not.
The Hell, my debt, He’s long forgot.
On me His love, He ever pours.
The former vile, He now adores.
I wonder if this life I live
is really all my best to give.
Oh, Savior, are you pleased with me,
the one You set from sin all free?
To measure self with untrue stick
is wading through a slough so thick,
but measuring by Christ’s blessed Gift
will heart restore and soul thus lift.
by Jay O’Toole
on April 14th, 2019
Poems About Jesus 