I've had bad days, months, and years.
At times I could not control my tears.
Eve cried out for mercy to God on high.
He eased my suffering and wiped my eyes.
Each time I cry out and call His name.
He touches my soul and soothes my pain.
Through the midst of it all He's always there.
To hold my hand and show that He cares.
Like oil from the olive my tears also flow.
When crushed by life as wearily I go.
But in the midst of it all I hear angles sing.
Holy, Holy, the words would ring.
Jesus was crushed and badly bruised.
Tortured, maligned, and murderously abused.
The more they crushed Him the mom it would flow.
Rivers of mercy and love all aglow.
So when troubles boil and you can find no rest.
In the midst of it all God gives His best.
He cared enough to send his Son to the cross,
For the wicked the cruel the eternally lost.
Holy, Holy, is the Son He sent.
Holy, Holy, to the cross He went.
Holy, Holy, He lives today.
Holy, Holy, is the only way.