When captives crawled
And revolters were stoned,
He mended their wounds
As they were never alone.

When children were sick,
Crippled, and lame;
He fought for them and
Loved them just the same.

When looking over Jerusalem,
His bleeding heart wept.
Pouring out His soul,
He committed unto death.

Singing praises to Jesus,
While they pierced His side;
They mocked and scourged Him
'Til His broken heart died.

When the judgments came,
Thus did the angry mob.
They couldn't know love
Because they didn't know God.

© by Joyce C. Lock
Website

Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed
upon us, that we should be called the sons of God:
therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not.
1 John 3:1