01 02 03 Tattered Hymnal: Hymns of Lent: Alas and Did My Savior Bleed 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

Hymns of Lent: Alas and Did My Savior Bleed

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Text: Isaac Watts
Tune and refrain: Rachel Henkle, 2014

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Here are some verses I've been thinking about tonight... 
You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Romans 5:6-8
Today was a full day. We spent the first half of the day running errands. Then this afternoon the kids and I went to the park for the first time in 2015 and came home with muddy knees and sand in our shoes. Later, I had to console a hysterical 3-year-old when we tried to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, only to discover that the DVD somehow broke in half since the last time we watched. (Yes, it's March and my daughter is still obsessed with Rudolph...) We had baths, bedtime stories and the usual stalling requests for drinks of water and extra songs. The kids are finally asleep, but I still have a kitchen sink full of dishes to wash and a kitchen floor full of Legos that didn't get picked up before bedtime. 

Sometimes in the midst of this everyday life, the cross seems like a distant event that happened so long ago. But this week's hymn puts me right at the scene. The blood, the anguish, the groaning of Jesus on the cross. I need to be reminded of my helpless, hopeless condition without the love of Christ. I need to be undone by the epic love story of rescue and redemption that I am a part of, and that did not come for free. Thank you, Jesus.


Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For sinners such as I?

Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—
And bathed in its own blood—
While the firm mark of wrath divine,
His Soul in anguish stood.

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give my self away
’Tis all that I can do.


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