After posting my last blog I felt inspired to further express what Jesus's death means to me by writing a poem:

"How many times have I heard the tale
That my Savior died for me?
How many times have I taken for granted
That I am purchased and free?

Lord Jesus was beaten and scourged—
Mocked by angry crowds.
All sin was on His shoulders
As He looked for God in the clouds.

Forsaken was He for an instant
By the Father up above.
What pain and grief He felt
As He was aching for Heavenly love.

Yet the task still lay before Him,
Although so utterly hard.
He would die for the sins of the world
And in His hands and feet be scarred.

He claimed the end before He took the last breath,
Hope and love in his eyes.
For why else would He give His life
So that we could live in paradise?

Three days later He rose again;
He took the keys of life from hell.
And in His resurrection—
God claimed that it was well.

All sin in life is vanished;
For Jesus paid it all.
With the crimson blood He shed
He’s promised we won’t fall.

For if we call upon His name
And ask for His salvation,
He’ll wash us clean from all our sin;
He’ll be our firm foundation.

So as I ponder what Jesus has done
And His great sacrifice—
I can’t help but give Him thanks
For paying the ultimate price."

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