The Grand Design

How tightly I have been bound,
These chains that bind and break me,
These whips and rods that strike me,
These hands that beat me, the mouths that spit upon me
The lips that scorn me, You created them
My Father and my God.

How bitterly I have been betrayed
The silver that bought me,
The lips that praised, then kissed me,
The hearts that denied me, the mob that hated me,
The minds that renounced me, You created them
My Father and my God.

But Father, this cup and this cross!
This burden I must bear,
Such a task none has ever known, has never designed.
But Master, if this cup is mine to drink,
If this cross and crown are mine to wear and carry
Not my will!  For my strength alone cannot support the weight
Of the beams.  My flesh alone cannot withstand the flail.
Not my will!

For who am I to say as a man, ‘I am everlasting’?
Who, who O God am I to say as your Son, ‘I shall rise up as Master’?
For what is my purpose but to be Thine?
From where does my power come?
I am not the Maker, nor am I the Master
But now, in Your will I must break beneath these blows.
Now in Your power must I be torn by the flail,
So that the sins of Your creations may be mine,
That You would turn your face from me.

So I shall be lowered from these beams,
And sealed from You and man.
I must be the stone that was rejected,
Cast from the Maker’s hand.
For three days must I be apart from You my God!
Such lengths are an eternity for the spirit that longs for You!
But this cup is one of many flavors,
All the makings of your Grand Design.
Lord, not my will!

But what burden is so heavy that You cannot lift it?
What cup is so strong that its stupor You cannot heal?
For when You completed your creation, it was good;
Your works are flawless in their design.
What water is alive in the tomb?
Can a spring, stopped by a stone, flow to nourish the lands?
The seal was made to be broken,
The capstone the last to rise.

And rise I shall, my heart filled with the gladness at the sight of Your face.
The wounds I bore will bleed an Elixir,
A cleansing salve to soothe the nations;
The balm of Your heart.
I shall sit at Your right hand, and the sheep of my flock
Will gather at Your gate, the lock torn away.
And Your will shall be fulfilled,
The path to Your love built with those nails
That pierce my flesh today.