I was blessed by His beating.
Made whole by His pain
Each wound profuse bleeding
Each drop washed sin’s stain
The stain of my sin
Dark as night deep as hell
Then He entered in
And proceeded to tell
That He’d taken away
My sin and its dross
On that victorious day
When He died on the cross
I am so blessed by His beating
By His wounds, I’m made whole
It was forgiveness I was needing
He changed my life, saved my soul
1Peter 2:24 Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed.