Oh, if we could just see
Jesus
Teaching on the hill,
Or holding children on his
knee,
Or tell the waves be
still.
If only we could see the
Lord
With healing in his touch,
A glimpse of him at work
or play
Would really mean so much.
To walk the roads that
Jesus did,
To see him face to face,
Would make the task of
following
Increase our faithful
pace.
We’d go to see the
hillside where
He fed the hungry crowd.
We’d have a chance to see
him
And to hear the joyful
crowd
That welcomed him that
Sunday morn
With palm branch in their
hand.
Perhaps we’d see the upper
room
That Maundy Thursday eve,
To eat the bread and taste
the wine
And never want to leave.
But then we’d have to stay
awake
As he began to pray
And recognize the danger
there
And wonder if we’d stay
To see the soldiers
seeking him
And watch that single kiss
-
A part of Holy Week’s
refrain
A part we’d chose to miss.
Then on to trials much too
hard
to see with our own eyes,
To know the fear and
trembling
The source of Peter’s
lies.
And then the cross upon
that hill
Where Death believed it
won,
To conquer him, the source
of life,
To stop God’s only son.
Yes, we would like to see
this man
And yet our wish might
cease
When we would face the
cost of sin
God’s gift, the Prince of …
Peace,
Alex
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