By his bed I watched him breathe as each breath seemed his last,
And in the darkness time stood still, yet moved so very fast.
Where is my faith, my trust, my hope? Where is this God of love?
“This is my son!” I cried aloud into the brass above.
Strong yet helpless there I sat and held his tiny hand,
And wondered if the God of Jacob were soon to make a stand.
As dreams once visioned disappeared and shattered in my eyes,
“This is my son!” rose from my lips and shouted to the skies.
That night was long, and dark, and numb, I will forget it not.
It emptied me of everything...of word, and deed, and thought.
Deals were made and desperate plans created in the strife,
“This is my son! And for his life, I will give my life!”
The darkness thickened like a fog and hid all trace of light.
It brought me low and there below ensued an awful fight.
I wrestled till the break of dawn and gave no certain ground,
“This is my son!” I won’t let go, till mercy will be found.
He wrapped me in His painful grip and held me there till dawn.
I fought and kicked against the goad, till all my strength was gone.
Bruised and beat He held me there, against my shattered will,
And gently whispered in my ear, “I love you, and will love you still.”
In the morning when I woke, the room was filled with light
And there I saw, and held in awe, the meaning of this fight.
“This is my Son”, He said to me, pointing to the cross.
“I know your hurt; I know your pain; I know your suffering loss.”
“I am not one who stands aloft, and watches without care.
I know when every sparrow falls. I number every hair.
This son of yours is also mine, before all time began.
Within His life and suffering, resides my perfect plan.”
“This is my Son! And He has died so all the sons may live.
Greater love has no man shown, than of his life he gives.
A sacrifice for death and sin and grace forever true.
This is my Son, and on this tree I show my love for you.”
I left the darkness bathed in light, and love, and hope, and grace,
Limping from the dreadful fight that brought me face to face.
“This is my son!” I smiled with joy, no health or wealth could bring,
And we will stand upon this Rock, and of His Son we’ll sing.