The Hill of Grace

Forever adorned with love,
My Saviour’s grace shines light on me,
He, although desperately weary,
Climbed triumphant to Calvary.

The hill of grace ‘tis called,
This hill of cold death and shame,
And until the Lord appeared,
That death shone upon my name.

Though my heart be sometimes troubled,
I am told not to be afraid,
For when trial and temptation overwhelm,
I am sheltered in His shade.

To You be all the glory,
For Life has now been raised,
May my hands that helped to crucify,
Now lift in eternal praise.

© 2013 Liana Wendy Howarth

(in my e-book “Fragrance from the Spring”)