When I think of heaven and all the sites I'll see the walls of jasper gates of pearl the clear and golden streets, Why should I be present why should I enter in after all the sinful living and the wicked one I've been? In the presence of Jehovah as I stand before the throne. The accuser of the brethren starts to read the things I've done, As I hear the awful charges the question fills my mind, why should I not be put in hell to suffer for all time.
Its through the blood that's all I have to plea, Its through the blood that Jesus shed for me, not by my own righteousness for filthy rags are they, but because of that old rugged tree hanging on dark Calvary that is my only plea its through the blood.
When I'm walking through a valley and I feel there is no way out, when the winds of sorrow threaten me and they turn my world around, that's when I look to Jesus and the price he paid for me. I can lift my hand in praise to Him and shout the victory.