"The Yoke" tells of Christ's childhood, His atonement for us, and His promise to bear our burdens as we take His yoke upon us.
The scent of wood had always brought Him to
His Father's side and gentle childhood.
There as a boy, Jesus watched in awe
As Father shaped the world with plane and saw.
Now as a man, Master of his craft,
He takes the beam with willing hands.
For it is time to finish what He wrought,
A better yoke that burdens not.
The soldiers mock and lash the heavy beam
To shoulders raw from a night of scourging.
Through the winding streets the foul crowd still follows;
As Jesus bears their scorn, their sins, in silent sorrow.
See His piercing pain;
Watch His footsteps fail;
See them lift the cross;
Feel the cruel nails.
See His piercing pain;
Hear His heavy sighs;
"Why hast thou forsaken me?"
Alone, He cries.
Now is the time to finish what He wrought,
A perfect yoke, that burdens not.
Now is the time to make His promise good.
His only comfort now--
Is the scent of wood.
"Come unto me, for my yoke is easy."
"Come unto me."