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Facing My Jesus

by Edward Nickerson

When I look into my Jesus eyes,
I wonder what I'll see.
A gaze that searches ages past,
And ponders souls like me.
A look that sees the future years,
Watching for the sinner's plea.
Those eyes that see my blinded mind,
"Will you not watch with me!"
Those eyes that flood with wasted tears,
For some souls not yet set free.

When I see at first my Saviors' face,
And I search that thorn pierced brow.
The scars of time that should be mine,
The price of sin, somehow!"
His face will shine for the soul of mine,
For "His life I'm living now!"
The bruises that he wore that day,
For a time, he would allow.
The swollen cheeks from cruel hands
That into his face did plough.

When I look upon my Saviors' hands,
The joints once wracked with pain.
I see my Lord as standing there,
Another life to gain.
The scars stand vivid in my mind,
Their witness to remain.
The tears are filling up my eyes
And "run down my face like rain!"
For the sin that lived within my heart,
Has left a blackened stain.

As I gaze upon my Saviors' feet,
Where the nails once tore holes.
I really can't believe my eyes,
The price paid for my soul!
But He walks and lives, and testifies,
How "my God has made Him whole!"
He gave His life that I might live,
As they nailed Him to those poles.
His sacrifice that I could live,
As he drew me to His fold!

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