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Written by Stuart Townend
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How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure
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at he should give his only son, to make a wretch his treasure
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iow great the pain of searing loss, the Father turned his face
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As wounds which mar the chosen one, bring many sons to glory
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Behold the man upon a cross, my sin upon his shoulders
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Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers
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it was my sin that held him there until it was accomplished
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has brought me life; I know that it is finished
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1 not boast in anything: no gifts, no power, no wisdom
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will boast in Jesus Christ; his death and resurrection
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Why should I"gain from his reward? I cannot give an answer
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But this I know with all my heart: his wounds have paid ayPATAERS