I Was There
By K. L. Patterson
On that night when Jesus died,
On that day that he was crucified,
I was there…
I stood below,
Watching all that blood and water flow.
I watched His pain,
I saw His tears,
I heard His cries, and I felt His spirit drain.
The people that wailed,
On that dark and wretched hill.
The darkness that devoured
The goodness of the world.
The lightning that flashed as the last words from His lips fell
Oh, I was there,
I was there.
I was there as the curtains of the temple ripped,
The shrill screaming of the priests,
The waking of the dead,
The trembling of the earth.
And I saw His head fall,
And I heard His last breath,
And I felt His spirit heave.
His followers one by one would leave…
But I stayed,
Nothing to prove,
Nothing to say,
For the Holy Son of God before me did not move.
I thought of all the times in my life,
All those times that I had sinned,
All those times that I had turned my back on God...I was there.
I was there.
I fell to the ground,
My hands trembling at His feet.
He deserved so much more than me.
He deserved so much more than this.
A dark and dreary hilltop,
With barely any light at all.
With me at His feet,
Just a dirty sinner at His call.
My hands in the mud,
And my clothes all in rags.
He deserved so much more than this.
I was there.
When the guards gambled for his robe, I was there,
When the men took him from the cross, I was there,
As the final joy in the world was carried from that hill.
I was there.
I was there.
I was there.