Who Built the Cross
Who Built the Cross by Bonnie Ramsey
As Christmas Time was drawing near
And the Christmas tree went up,
I thought I'd build a wooden cross
And have it all lit up.
I pieced together strips of board
And as I drove each nail, I thought
How guilty I would feel if I had
Built my Savior's cross.
Once the stake was mounted
And the cross was in its place,
I thought about him hanging there
And the look upon his face.
As I strung the lights back and forth
My eyes began to see...
That it wasn't me who drove the nails
But my Savior died for me.
For every bad deed I'd ever do,
He was the one who'd suffer loss.
Although my hands didn't drive the nails,
My sins helped build the cross.
After hours of nailing and stringing lights,
I stood back, amazed to see
A beautiful, life-sized, wonderful sight
But the guilt still tortured me.
For, there've been times I was too busy to pray
Or to read his word, so rich and free
And yet, he somehow found the time
To shed his blood and die for me.
Yes, we should all help carry the guilt
And keep him in all of our thoughts.
Because although we didn't drive the nails,
Our sins helped build the cross!
© 1993 Bonnie N. Ramsey
This poem was actually a true experience. It took over
16 straight hours to finish that cross and it stood on the
hill at my parents' home every Christmas until 2005, when
it was no longer operable. There will soon be a set of 3 on the
same hill representing Jesus in red (symbolizing his blood),
The thief who repented in white (representing his salvation) and
the thief who denied him in Amber (representing hell fires).
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