Listen to Jill recite her poem below:
You wore my thorns, that I may know Your grace;
Pierced by my sin, that I may see Your face.
Loved and forgiven from shame and deep disgrace,
You wore my thorns, You wore my thorns.
You wore my robe, You let them mock and sneer;
You took the beating You knew I could not bear.
In this silent moment, I turn and see You there:
You wore my robe, You wore my robe.
You felt my nails, and watched the hammer fall.
Legions of angels You refused to call.
Watched they who loved You, holy and appalled,
You felt my nails, You felt my nails.
You bore my cross, You bore Your Father’s frown;
Tears on His face, His judgment took You down.
Now it’s my turn to wear the thorny crown,
For You bore my cross, You bore my cross.
You died my death, You gave Your life for me;
Laid in my tomb of sin, You set me free.
You loved a girl, who hurt You terribly;
You died my death, You died my death.
Teach me to love what once I so despised,
Live for Your smile, the love-light in Your eyes;
Ignite a flame of love that never dies.
You wore my thorns, You wore my thorns!
You Wore My Thorns, Jill Briscoe © 2001