The Surrendered Son

In the garden Jesus prayed;
His human nature was displayed;
For, though a Son, He was afraid;
But never from His purpose strayed.

Thrice to God He made his cry
That the cup would pass him by;
It’s not that He was scared to die;
There was another reason why.

It was the wrath that He would face
To represent the human race;
To be for us the gift of grace,
He must forego His God’s embrace.

Only He, the great God man,
Could fulfill the loving plan
And lift from us the dreadful ban
And build a bridge the gulf to span.

So in the garden He was pressed,
And in the bloody garments dressed,
Heavy hearted and distressed,
Determined that we would be blessed.

“Not my will but thine be done”;
Reservation, there was none;
A perfectly surrendered Son
Fought the darkness, and He won.

All the while His loved ones slept:
How unable, how inept.
But, though His will they had not kept,
It was for them that He had wept.

This is a lesson to us all:
Salvation does not come by law;
For, even when His people fall,
Jesus stands up to the call.

And so He went, and He alone,
Up to Golgotha to atone;
Our great sin debt became His own,
Oh how our Savior’s love was shown!