Going With Jesus

I’ll go with You, Jesus, to Bethlehem,

Where You came to us as a babe;

I’ll look in the manger and smell the

sweet hay, And imagine the words

that were said.

I’ll go with You, Jesus, to Nazareth,

Where You grew up as most any boy;

I’ll see You at play on a beautiful day

And imagine a home full of joy.

I’ll go with You, Jesus, to Jerusalem,

Where the palm branches spread in Your path

Were a carpet of praise as You passed

by that way,

And You heard not a word of wrath.

But...Oh!...Must I go to Gethsemane?

Must I watch Your great sorrow there?

Must I stay with You ‘til the morning dew

Falls silently on Your hair?

Oh, Jesus! I can’t go to Calvary!

It’s my Lord and my King hanging there!

The blood dripping down - the vile,

thorny crown -

Oh, Jesus! It’s too much to bear!

...I want to go to His garden tomb -

To kneel in reverence there.

My crucified King - my sweet memories -

They fill the soft scented air.

"Tis the greatest joy my tongue can employ!

The great stone is rolled away!

Not mere memories, but a risen King

Is mine forever today!

The paths that I walk and the way

that I talk -

All things - He forever shares!

Oh, my pathways are bright, for He is

my Light,

And will show me Heaven one day!

...It’s hard, Dear Lord, to remember

the lepers -

The smell of the sick You healed;

It’s hard to remember the garden prayer

As You in obedience yield;

It’s hard to remember the old rugged cross,

Where You suffered and died for me -

Yet these basic things gave the mightiest King

Ever known on the earth today;

Because You have risen and live in my heart,

And You guide me day after day

Is the reason why I watch the sky

As I journey on my way.

"Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus"

Joan Clifton Costner

All Rights Reserved.

The Library

All pages are listed in the Library.