He Is The King Of The Jews

The ointment was for My Redeemer.
The tears were for His grave.
The love I felt so within my spirit
Was the new life that He gave. Each hammer blow was a cry of anguish
Not from Him, but me, as I made my way.
In the shadows of His almighty mission
The Rock, great Peter, could not stay. And a mother's heart to a brother given
Could hold no pain any worse than mine.
My great sweet Master and precious Teacher
Had left this earth as does all Mankind. But we soon all learned to the praise of heaven
That a mother's son and a brother's friend
Had faced all hell and returned to heaven
To right the wrong and come back again.

by Mary Chris Halm

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