Whenever life may get you down,
And you want to smile, but wear a frown,
And burdens heavy on you lay,
Your headache just won’t go away,Just fall upon your knees and pray.
Beaten with a lead-tipped whip,
Skin laid bare in criss-crossed strips,
Fists of iron struck His face,
They mocked to put Him in His place,
A crown of thorns to add disgrace.
A wooden cross He bore alone,
Stumbling through the streets of stone,
They nailed Him to the cross that day,
He, who was born in a bed of hay,
“Forgive them Father,” he was heard to say.
They laid Him in a tomb so dark,
And rolled a stone upon its mark,
To seal His tomb would be in vain,
On Easter morn He rose again,
Leaving behind the earthly pain.
So when your life you start to dread,
Remember the whip with tips of lead,
The crown of thorns upon His head.
And when your heart is full of pain,
And you feel your life has been in vain,
Remember how He rose again.
And when your burdens heavy lay,
Remember the cross He bore that day,
Then fall down on your knees and pray.
©Carol Ann Erhardt, 2000