~ Peter Is My Name ~
It was crowded, people everywhere,
Following the condemned along the square,
Where signs of torture marked the trail,
Observing a man, now so frail.
Heartless soldiers, leading prisoners along,
Shouting and hurrying the throng,
As blood splattered from broken backs,
Marking the path, as the whip cracks.
The unruly crowd yelling "Death!"
I felt my conscience saying not yet!
If only I had not denied HIM three times,
Would he still have had to die of no crime?
Three crosses set on a hillside,
By soldiers for prisoners who would die,
Nailed upright piercing hands and feet,
Blood dripped, Mother Mary kneeled beneath.
"Just a minute", I wanted to shout,
My face in anguish as my stomach heaved about,
Watching the killing of three,
Yet knowing one could set me free.
Jesus, Son of God, was not a sinner,
Yet he was dying, what could be grimmer?
For I know the truth I told Him so,
The living Christ, Son of God, Heavenly Host.
Turning away, I bowed my head,
Insides screaming, tears unshed I fled,
As no more would I look in HIS face,
My life, my faith, all in disgrace.
Later I heard of awesome things,
Of the darkness, a voice thundering on stirring winds,
As my Lord, my Savior, died alone,
My spirit brought low, I cannot atone.
I saw the Savior walking the road,
He had risen and came to our abode,
Where we worshipped, prayed, cried His name,
He looked and spoke, HE seemed the same.
This man of Galilee, so very strong,
Was not with us for very long,
Business finished, heaven bound from earth,
Giving everyone message, believers new birth.
He pardoned me, made me free,
Christ, God, the Holy Spirit, all three,
As in confidence I stand knowing what's right,
Preaching and praying with all of God's might.
Joan C. Nelson-Payne © 2005
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