He was born of a virgin, He was raised a carpenter.
He shared a story of hope, He offered a solution to my pain.
He healed the sick, He caused the blind to see.
He made the lame to walk, He set captives free.
He loved the unlovable.
He helped the unhelpable.
He cured the incurable.
He did all of this – in my place.
I am imperfect. I have sin. I need help.
A man cannot rescue himself from the grasp of death.
He came to rescue me.
He came down close to me, to clear the way for my escape.
His love is extravagant for me.
He was convicted of a crime he didn’t commit – in my place.
He was sentenced to a punishment he didn’t deserve – in my place.
He was beaten – in my place.
He was bruised – in my place.
He was scarred – in my place.
He was crowned with thorns – in my place.
He was hung on a wooden cross – in my place.
He took on my punishment and guilt – in my place.
He died on that cross, and paid the price for my sin – in my place.
He is Jesus.
Three days after he paid the ultimate price, he rose from the grave to give the ultimate gift:
He is my rescuer, my salvation.
He is my Saviour – in my place.