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Kenneth Cope
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Miracle from Heaven
From the sheltering wood of His cradle To the crippling wood of the cross From the stony cave of a stable
To a stony tomb threatening loss
Some would see God's Son rise to greatness But now, He's risen home to thee
He was a miracle from heaven
A miracle
While He would escape Herod's danger He would not escape Satan's blow
Though revered and worshipped by angels Men and devils would scorn Him below He was daylight piercing the darkness
But now, His days are veiled from me He was a miracle from heaven
A wondrous miracle
Miracles—I've known His miracles
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But the miracle—His greatest miracle . . .
From the swaddling cloth of His birth-night cry To the crimson cloth of His grief
From His mother's blood back in Bethlehem
To His own on Calvary
He has drenched Himself in our suffering That our suffering might not be
He brings this miracle from heaven
For all who will believe
We need His miracle from heaven Lord, work Your miracle for me
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