Every time I see a old rugged tree ,
It reminds me of the man who died for you ,
and me.
I sit alone staring across that moon lite sky,
thinking about how on that cruel cross
our savior Jesus Christ died.
I call him love.
I call him mercy .
I call him grace.
I call him peace.
I call him forgiveness
I call him hope
for this lost ,
and dieing human race
that is who is to me.
I think about his blood
that was shed for you,and for me.
I think about
that at Calvary's cross
his crucifixion was never in vain..
I look around,
and I do see,
all those on bended knee's
Are calling upon his holy name.
I call him love.
I call him mercy.
I call him grace.
I call him peace.
I call him forgiveness.
I call him hope,
for this lost ,
And dieing human race.
that is who he is to me.
I call love.
I call him mercy.
I call him peace.
I call him forgiveness.
I call him hope
for this lost,
And dieing human race.
That is who Jesus Christ is to me.
That is who Jesus Christ is to me.