The Chosen Tree
O chosen tree, O precious wood
That bore my Saviour up,
Though He chose long before that time
To drink death's bitter cup.
O heartless bark, how could you know
What those dear drops could mean?
Of blood that flowed so freely
That made this sinner clean.
How could you know such cruelty
That day on Calvary's hill
Would pave the way to glory
For those who seek His will.
It's not your fault, O little tree
This torturous sight took place
For I'm the one who hung Him there
He died to plead my case.
If you had known the magnitude
Of what your life would be
I doubt you would have chosen
To be that special tree.
Oh the boundlessness of God's dear grace
To plant that little seed
That would be marked the "death-tree"
That all mankind would need.
O little tree so long ago
How could you know you'd be
An instument in Holy Hands
To save a worm like me.
Written by me: Inspiration from the One who loved me so