Verse 1

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure.

 

How great the pain of searing loss.

The Father turns His face away

As wounds which mar the Chosen One

Bring many sons to glory.

 

Verse 2

Behold the Man upon a cross,

My sin upon His shoulders.

Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice

Call out among the scoffers.

 

It was my sin that held Him there

Until it was accomplished;

His dying breath has brought me life.

I know that it is finished.

 

Verse 3

I will not boast in anything

 No gifts, no pow’r, no wisdom.

But I will boast in Jesus Christ:

His death and resurrection.

 

Why should I gain from His reward?

I cannot give an answer.

But this I know with all my heart:

His wounds have paid my ransom.