He Did it All for Me

He left his throne on heaven,
glory, majesty, honor,
to be born in a little stable:
dirty, smelly, dark.

He was born to the virgin Mary,
young, scared, naive.
He was raised by the carpenter Joseph,
Poor, strong, and wise.

He grew as a child of man,
Learning, growing, serving.
And as a child of God,
Wise, faithful, perfect.

He chose his twelve disciples,
Men, ordinary, special.
He taught them who he was:
The Way, the Truth, the Life.

He prepared for his own death,
teaching, serving, loving.
He cried out to his Father,
humbly, sadly, willingly.

He let himself be taken,
Beaten, scorned, and mocked.
He let them crucify him,
Nailing, pounding, killing.

He gave up his own life,
Gladly, willingly, painfully.
He took it up again,
Victoriously, joyfully.

He went back to his father,
Glorified, honored, majestic.
He will come back again:
God, Savior, Friend.

And he did it all
for me.
For you.
For the world.