Nature and Faith in Images and Words

Just One Drop


There’s been many a time at communion

That I’ve gazed at the bread and the wine.

So often in fact, that often I lack

To comprehend fully the sign, 

That these elements demonstrate to us,

The story they bring to our mind.

Of why they are used, so often abused, 

Yet ignore it ? Yes we’re often  unkind.

I know we are there to remember,

The death of our Saviour, God’s Son.

Yet we get so familiar, it all seems so similar

That the meaning is beyond us – undone.

It becomes to us second nature,

To receive the cup and the bread,

The fact He was killed, is our mind ever stilled?

No, we forget that He ever was dead.

I’m aware of my sin, there’s enough of it,

I’m reminded of it each time I pray.

It’s there in the Book, each time that I look,

That fact will I think, ever stay.

Yet the same book speaks of forgiveness,

That the price of sin has been met.

No more do I owe, I can now let it go,

For God has said He’ll forget

I gazed into the cup set before me

Then a question I asked my dear Lord.

“Did you ever stop, to count every drop -

That that out of your body poured?

How many drops does it take Lord?

To wash away all of my sin?

I then felt a tear, as He spoke in my ear,

And such love overwhelmed me within.

I knew all that the Bible said about sin,

And that shedding of blood was required.

But the answer I got, that erased every spot,

Was nothing short of inspired.

I had pictured in my mind a river,

That at the least would be needed to stop

My journey to hell, I knew that so well,

Yet He said...No, just one drop!

One drop of my blood is sufficient,

To erase from your record, your sin.

I said, “That can’t be, I’m so black, you can see,

I’m filthy without, and within.

“Look no longer at what you have done or said.

 This all belongs in the past.

Fix your gaze upon me, as I hang from the tree.

That drop will eternity last.

So whenever the cup and the bread are served,

I can never again feel condemned.

What Christ has done, the victory He’s won

Through the blood that was not stemmed.

Can I ever forget the word that He spoke?

That forced my doubts to stop.

That one single act, an indisputable fact,


The cleansing that came from one drop.