How deep the Father's love for us. How vast beyond all measure. That He should give His only Son To make a wretch His treasure. How great the pain of searing loss; The Father turns His face away, As wounds which mar the Chosen One, Bring many sons to glory. Behold the man upon a cross, My sin upon His shoulders. Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice, Call out among the scoffers. It was my sin that held Him there, Until it was accomplished. His dying breath has brought me life, I know that it is finished. I will not boast in anything, No gifts, no power, no wisdom. But I will boast in Jesus Christ, His death and resurrection. Why should I gain from His reward? I cannot give an answer. But this I know with all my heart, His wounds have paid my ransom Why should I gain from His reward? I cannot give an answer. But this I know with all my heart, His wounds have paid my ransom.