So, dragging my battle-scarred body,
I crawled to the foot of the cross.
And I sobbed. 'Oh please, Father forgive me.
But I tried...I tried.. and still lost!

Then the air grew silent around me.
I heard his voice just as clear as the dawn:
"Oh, My child, though you are tired and weary,
you can't stop, you have to go on."

At the foot of the Cross , where I met Him,
At the foot of the Cross, where He died,
I felt love, as I knelt in His presence.
I felt hope, as I looked in His eyes.

Then He gathered me lovingly to Him,
as around us God's light clearly shone.
And together we walked though my lifetime
to heal every wound I had known.

I found bits of my dreams, long forgotten,
and pieces of my life on the floor.
But I watched as He tenderly blessed them,
and my life was worth living once more.

I knew then why I had been losing.
I knew why I had not grown.
At the foot of the Cross came the answer:
I'd been fighting the battle alone.

At the foot of the Cross, where I met Him,
At the foot of the Cross, where He died,
Then I knew I could face any challenge
together--just my Lord and I.

By Marcia Krugh Leaser