Worth a thousand

A poem to remind us of what we're worth.

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The path He set to navigate
None of us would ever plan.
He stepped outside Heaven’s gates;
Its King became a man.

Each step was worth a thousand,
For the lost would soon be won.
For God so loved the world
He gave His only Son.

Each step was worth as many
As the ones He seeks to save.
Each step He took was more than any
Would make for those who strayed.

The days drew on toward the mark
As hope and light He shared;
Every word and deed pointing
Toward the purpose He’d prepared.

Each day was worth a thousand,
For His days on earth were few.
So frequently forgotten, the multitudes He healed
And the thousands He made new.

Each day was worth as many
As would come to Him in faith,
And come to know the truth:
It was for us He came.

So came that dreaded cross
Made for criminals like me.
It was laid upon His shoulders;
Upon the stripes He held that tree.

That cross weighed like a thousand,
Bearing down with awful force.
Toward a hill with men condemned,
The faultless set His course.

Another man who had compassion
Took it up when strength did lack.
Yet the weight of it remained
A thousand on Jesus’ back.

That cross was worth as many
As on Him their burdens lay.
At rest, they know He carries them,
Finding mercy new each day.

The sky was growing stormy
To match the grief within His heart.
The day His life would stop
Was the day which ours would start.

Would He hesitate in dread of more?
Would He hasten to bring its end?
He thought of those dead in sin
Who through His death could live again.

So on the tree they laid Him
With scornful mockery.
Yet He looked on with compassion;
He saw their slavery.

Each nail felt like a thousand,
For though His hands were pierced,
It was His soul which took the spikes
Of sin and guilt so fierce.

Each nail was worth as many
As would fall down on their knees
When they came to know the reason
Why He’d go to Calvary.

Behold, the innocence of Love
In the man whose blood was shed.
No justice for the righteous;
We’d go free instead.

Each drop would clear a thousand
From a history of wrongs.
Mercy spared no greater price
Pardoned by a love so strong.

Each drop was worth as many
As would take the gift of grace
Which soaks into the hardest hearts,
Cleansing sin without a trace.

He struggled for His final breath;
In anguish cried aloud,
Declaring, “It is finished!”
As silence filled the crowd.

His death was worth as many
As would come to Him in grief
Sparing not one cherished sin,
To lay them at His feet.

Inside a tomb they placed Him
As the day was getting late,
And rested there this man of sorrows
Who would think this was His fate?

It felt just like a thousand,
Although it was one day,
To those who felt His absence
In a thousand different ways.

The night set in a second time
Since Jesus passed away,
But the Son was soon to rise
Just about the break of day.

Then the grave that took the thousands
Couldn’t take it anymore.
Life itself burst through the tomb
To live forevermore.

Now hear His call of triumph,
“Rise up from the dirt!”
Hear the voice of Love Himself;
He’ll tell you what you’re worth:

“You’re worth a thousand steps
Through a thousand days of grief.
A thousand wounds is what you’re worth,
And a thousand mocking Me.

You’re worth the cross I carried,
And every painful breath.
You’re worth the scars that never fade
From the wounds that sin had left.

The way it felt to be betrayed,
And the weight of all your sins
Was worth it if it means that
Your life with me begins.

You’re worth a thousand times
What you’re told you should believe.
You’re worth the thousand ways I’ve tried
To draw your heart to see
That I gave my life so you would know
That’s what you’re worth to me.”


Alex Martin writes from Newcastle, New South Wales.