My Jesus

My Jesus walked, talked,
Ate, cried, breathed, slept.
He felt hot, cold, hungry,
Thirsty, happy, angry, sad.
He was betrayed by his friends.

My Jesus suffered.
He was beaten, mocked,
Pierced with thorns, bloodied.
Whipped, over and over again.
He carried two beams to the hill.

My Jesus was nailed
To a tree He created.
The sensitive hands and feet
He created, screaming in agony.
He forgave a criminal.

My Jesus died,
Bloodied, naked before the world
He came to save.
Mocked, beaten, and crucified
By those He came to save.

My Jesus was sliced open,
The water and blood testifying
That He was more than a man.
The Spirit testifying, darkening the world,
Ripping the temple curtain in two.

My Jesus was buried.
For three days in the tomb.
And then - and then!
The stone rolled away.
He lives!

My Jesus is Love.
My Jesus is Power.
He's Life in abundance.
He's a River that never goes dry.
He's Bread that never runs out.

No matter your stains,
Your depravity, your brokenness -
His death can cover your sins.
His life can make you whole.
Will you call him your Lord?