Before the first, small breath of life On that first Christmas day,

The tiny, baby Jesus knew He would prepare the way.

From early morning’s gentle sun Till dusk’s more shadowed cast,

He grew and walked the dusty paths, And blessed all whom He passed.

He called the fishermen at sea; He taught upon the Mount.

He was the caring Shepherd and His lost sheep He did count.

At times He found one gone astray, Or lost in dark and cold.

He’d listen for a small, faint cry, Then gather close to hold.

But soon He was the Lamb Himself, Who died to cleanse our stains.

His blood He spilt so willingly To take away our pains.

Why would this man, this perfect Son, Who stands first at the gate,

Desire to pay that price for us, A sacrifice so great?

His only, and eternal work, He gave for us in love!

If we will heed the Shepherd’s call We’ll be with Him above.

He was the sacrificial Lamb, And Shepherd all in one,

For from his first breath to his last, He was the promised Son.