Fearing the battle was over
and I'd already lost the war,
I was tired of trying and failing.
I just couldn't fight anymore.

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.<o:p></o:p>

Then He gathered me lovingly to Him,
as around us God's light clearly shone.<o:p></o:p>

And together we walked through my lifetime,<o:p></o:p>

to heal every wound I had known.<o:p></o:p>

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.<o:p></o:p>

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.<o:p></o:p>

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.<o:p></o:p>