Would I have walked beside Him,
Down that dirty, rock-strewn road?
Would I have tried to steady Him,
As He stumbled with His load?

Would I have let Him lean against me?
Would I have gladly borne his weight?
Could I have helped in anyway,
To ease His great heartache?

Could I have said the proper words,
To comfort His aloneness,
To show I shared His sorrow,
To attend to His forlornness?

I wonder if I'd been there,
Would I have stroked His tear-stained cheek,
And kissed His bloodied hands,
And washed his bloodstained feet?

Would I have rubbed His aching shoulders,
Put soothing lotion on His back,
Tended to His open wounds,
And supplied the water that He lacked?

I know I was not good enough,
To volunteer to take His place,
But could I have helped Him bear that cross,
And kept the sweat from His dear face?

Would I have put my arms around His mother,
And hugged her to my breast?
Could I have shielded her from viewing,
Her precious Son's tormented death?

Could I have helped prepare His body,
And have bathed Him with perfume?
I wonder if I'd been there,
Would I have waited by His tomb?

No doubt that Easter Morning,
I would have shouted, "HE IS RISEN!"
And I know I would have thanked my God,
For that most joyous of occasions.

I'm so sorry that He suffered,
And I am sad it was that way,
But I know it was God's plan for man,
And because of it ... we're saved.