He Chose

He chose to give a gift
knowing that all of humanity would abuse and misuse it.
He chose to come down to earth fully God and fully man
knowing that his body would be broken and wounded.
He chose to bear the scars of an imperfect world
knowing the scorn he would receive because of our lack of trust in his sovereignty.
He chose to be pierced for our transgressions
knowing that we would stab him over and over again with the sins that so easily beset us.
He chose to grant us our freedom
knowing that in our ignorance we would reject it.

In those agonizing hours as Christ prayed to His Father in the Garden of Gathsemane, 

He chose.  

"Thy will be done." He said.
He chose to die that we might live.

How many times during my day do I neglect to thank Him, or to even make use of the gift that He so freely gave us?
How many days am I alive, but not really living?
I am forever indebted. 
Forever grateful.
Yet I forget.
He is my hero, and I forget to tell Him.
My Saviour, and I forget to show how much I love Him.
He has done so much for me, yet somehow I find myself reluctant to do much for Him.

Every breath I breathe should be praise.
Every word I say should be worship.
Every step I take should be to give Him glory.

I gave My life for thee,

  My precious blood I shed

That thou might'st ransomed be,

  And quickened from the dead.

I gave My life for thee,

  What hast thou given for Me?

I suffered much for thee,

  More than thy tongue may tell,

Of bitterest agony,

  To rescue thee from hell.

I suffered much for thee;

What canst thou bear for Me?

Oh let thy life given,

  Thy years for Him be spent,

World-fetters all be riven,

  And joy with suffering blent;

I gave Myself for thee:

  Give thou thyself to Me!

~ Frances Havergal ~