Simply

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

Behold the man upon the 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.

I will not boast in anything

No gifts, no power, no wisdom

But I will boast in Jesus Christ

His death and resurrection

What can I gain from His reward?

I cannot give an answer

But this I know with all my heart

His wounds have paid my ransom.