The Cross was His Own

At the Beginning of Lent it is good to be reminded of just how blessed we are.  The following poem is one of my favorites. 

They borrowed a bed to lay His head
When Christ the LORD came down;
They borrowed the ass in the mountain pass
For Him to ride to town;
But the crown that He wore,
And the cross that He bore ...
Were His own.

He borrowed the bread when the crowd He fed
On the grassy mountain side;
He borrowed the dish of broken fish
With which He satisfied;
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
Were His own.

He borrowed the ship in which to sit
To teach the multitude;
He borrowed the nest in which to rest,
He had never a home so rude;
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
Were His own.

He borrowed a room on the way to the Tomb
The Passover lamb to eat;
They borrowed the cave; for Him a grave;
They borrowed the winding sheet.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
Were His own.

The thorns on His head were worn in my stead,
For me the Saviour died.
For guilt of my sin the nails drove in
When Him they crucified;
Though the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
Were His own-- They rightly were mine!
~Author Unknown ~