A tree in the forest like all the rest,
A haven for birds who find a high nest.
Not really big as trees sometimes grow,
Its destiny great but who’d ever know?
A mast for a ship that rules the world’s waves?
A throne for the queen whom the people do rave?
A beam for a bridge to join several nations?
A carving of beauty by a sculptor’s creation?
All these things this wood could be,
What it becomes we soon shall see.
The ax now drops it to the ground,
It takes its life with little sound.
Dragged away by a dark horse,
Sawed into two with weary force.
A hole is dug and dropped within,
It stands again as once it’d been.
The other piece is placed upon
The shoulders of a beaten Son.
Whipped and bloody, battered and bruised,
This done by his brothers and by his Father used.
To heal my wounds and save my soul,
To take what’s dung and turn to gold.
A once beautiful tree, now a symbol of death,
Of pain and suffering and awful test.
Of all the things this could’ve done,
It took the Life of God’s own Son.
Forever now the epitome of pain,
It’s called the cross, a bitter name.
And I am guilty more than this tree,
For by my sins He died for me.
This tree did nothing to earn this shame,
Nor did my Savior who suffered such pain.
He did it all for me, for you,
To give us life fresh and new.
To those who love Him, He’s built a city,
To those who don’t I truly pity.
Although this tree bears shameful name,
I love it dearly just the same.
A higher purpose cannot be found,
For any tree taken from the ground.
Like any tree just like them all,
We can be great when we heed His call.
And love Him, thank Him for what He’s done,
The pain and suffering from God’s own Son.
And so this tree has brought forth fruit,
Countless souls who embrace the truth.
But to those who reject such sublime Love,
There’s no more mercy from God above.
Perhaps a tree that bears their name,
Oh what a pity, oh what a shame,
Did Christ He die for you in vain?
Tertius
“He himself bore our sins” in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.”
1 Peter 2:24
A note about “The Carpenters Masterpiece”: The epitome of what appears to be a curse (not just any curse, but the worst curse) actually turning out to be a blessing (not just any blessing, but our greatest blessing) No matter what, trust God!