If Jesus Christ had made His cross, its workmanship would be
a finished product – stained and smooth. A carpenter was He.
If Jesus would have sanded down the wood and grain so fine,
He would have been more comfortable as He departed time.
But love demanded He endure the work of mortal hands,
whose slivers became darts thrust in this gravely wounded man.
The cross He carried, carried Him upon the mountain slope,
where His own life exchanged our death and brought Golgotha’s hope.
Though Jesus did not make His cross, yet in His hands was done
a finished work – salvation’s blend, a scarring victory won.
Because our Lord, Himself, could build a structure out of wood,
His skillful hands yielded this right, to give the best He could.
When Jesus asks us every day that our own cross we should bear,
be ready to yield God your strengths. Make it an altar there.