Oh, the shame that I complain
that a drop should fall on me
while torrents on my Savior rained
from abusive humanity.
Should I expect a smile or praise
from a world that frowned on Him
or covet worthless accolades
from hearts so black with sin?
Or should a servant ever be
better treated than his lord?
How can he sing in harmony
with a world of such discord?
How should I then, escape unscathed
as I in His footsteps tread?
While He forsaken, hurt, betrayed
suffered judgment in my stead.
And should an ash e'er fall on me
from the fire that fell on Him.
I should bow in low humility
as I think of all my sin.
Should some small pain e'er come my way
of rejection, loss or woe
May I remember earth's most darkest day
When the Highest hung on a cross so low.