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 marred the Chosen One, bring many sons to Glory.
Behold! The man upon a Cross, my sin  upon his shoulders. Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice  calling out among the scoffers. But, it was my sin that held  Him there. Until it was accomplished, His dying breath  has brough me such life. I know, that it is truly finished.
I will not boast in Anything. No gifts | No Power | No Wisdom. But I will boast in Jesus Christ, his death and resurrection.
… But Why should I gain from his  reward? I cannot give you an answer. But this I know with all  my heart, His wounds have paid  my ransome.