I have seen the robe but not the face,
The eyes that contain eternity in a single teardrop,
The scars upon his dark tanned skin, that once carried a thorny crown,
The hands through which our angry spikes were driven,
The back so torn open by our sickness and disease,
The mouth that lips the tongue, which as he spoke drove back the soldiers,
Yet so gently caressed the broken heart of every sick or broken sinner who opened to his words,
I have looked and only seen the robe, of the carpenters son,
I have heard the words so warm and strong that assure me, he is completely reliable,
Words are cheap, and easy they slip of the tongue,
Like a rusty nail, or a bullet from a gun,
Yet I am humbled when I look down into his eyes, instead of up,
And wonder why he washes my feet and fills my cup,
Oh Lord you are my servant, I do not understand, help me to live according to your command,
To love.
2005 ericsongs