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The Precious Blood
Based on the Valley of Vision prayer, "The Precious Blood."
Words and Music by Peter Gagnon

Before the cross I kneel and see
The measure of my sin
How You became a curse for me
Though You were innocent
The magnitude of Your great love
Was shown in full degree
When righteous blood, the crimson spill
Rained down from Calvary

Oh, the precious blood
That flowed from Mercy’s side
Washed away my sin
When Christ my Savior died
Oh, the precious blood Of Christ the crucified
It speaks for me before Your throne
Where I stand justified

And who am I that I should know
This treasure of such worth
My Savior’s pure atoning blood
Shed for the wrath I’d earned
For sin has stained my every deed
My every word and thought
What wondrous love that makes me one
Your priceless blood has bought

A crown of thorns, pierced hands and feet
A body bruised, and Mercy’s plea


***

The grass was green and the air smelled of rain. As i walked home today, listening to this song...i found myself at a lack of words. there were so many words. but there was only one thing i could say. thank-you.
it was amazingly beautiful, and all i could do was sob and cry out thank-you, to my Saviour and my God.

on Canada day, it was pouring and i was standing under a tree with a friend. the grass was green and the air smelled of rain. and he said a string of beautiful words. "it will be a terrifying few moments, as i stand there. filthy because of my sin and ashamed as everything i have ever done--things that only God and i know about--are revealed. it will be terrifying as the gavel comes down. and amazing when i am declared free."*

he doesn't know this...but those words were stunningly powerful. they hit at my heart, and for the first time in a long time, i saw myself as dirty. vulnerable. unable to do anything to free myself. knowing and seeing are different things. and it was then, in the rain, that i SAW myself pierce His hands.

i saw His blood spill on me and wash me clean.

the grass is green and the rain has brought refreshment to a dry and thirsty ground.




* Lydia paraphrase...she can't remember the exact words.. this is an unsuccessful attempt in capturing the beauty of the phrase.