The Great Physician
In shadows deep a patient lay,
Bound tight by death’s unyielding sway,
A heart within—corrupt, untrue,
Blackened through, as sin will do.
Beside me stood the Surgeon fair,
With gentle hands and earnest stare;
His voice spoke softly, firm and wise,
“This heart, my child, must surely die.”
“But fear not,” said the Healer’s voice,
“For mercy calls beyond your choice.
I’ll not repair what’s ruined within;
This heart of stone holds only sin.”
Then I watched, eyes wide with awe,
As Surgeon took the blade he saw—
But oh! not toward my solemn chest,
Instead, the knife the Healer pressed.
He cut His own, pure heart of grace,
While tears of love ran down His face,
“My heart I’ll give, my life, my breath,
To rescue you from sin and death.”
The stone removed, the cold heart gone,
The Healer placed within my own—
A heart of flesh, of living flame,
That pulsed with power, whispered His name.
“Now rise,” He breathed, “my life in you,
Your old is gone, behold the new.
Walk in my ways, my heart is yours,
Forever opened heaven’s doors.”
Thus patient woke, reborn, made whole,
No longer bound, a living soul,
Yet ever knew the cost and prize:
His life restored, through Surgeon’s sacrifice.
