Jason Crabb - When He Was On The Cross (I Was On His Mind) Lyrics
Lyrics
I'm not on an ego trip, I'm nothing on my own.
I've made mistakes, and I often slip.
I'm just common flesh and bone.
But I'll prove someday just what I say, I'm of a special kind.
For while he was on the cross, I was on his mind.
The look of love was on his face, and throns on his head.
Blood was on that scarlet robe, and it was staind in crimson red.
Though his eyes were on the crowd that day, he looked ahead in time.
For while he was on the cross, you were on his mind.
He knew me.
Yet he love me.
He who's glory makes the heaven's shine.
I'm so unworthy, of such mercy.
For while he was on the cross, I was on his mind.
Yes while he was on the cross, you were on his mind.
He knew me.
Yet he love me.
He who's glory makes the heaven's shine.
I'm so unworthy, of such mercy.
For while he was on the cross, I was on his mind.
Yes while he was on the cross, I was on his mind.
Video
Jason Crabb - When He Was On the Cross (I Was On His Mind) [Live] ft. Jason Crabb
Meaning & Inspiration
My hands have grown spotted and stiff over the years, the kind of skin that shows every winter I’ve weathered. I sat tonight turning the pages of an old hymnal—the spine is loose, held together by nothing but habit and memories—and I put on Jason Crabb’s singing.
It’s easy to get caught up in the melody, but the lines that stuck to my ribs were: "Though his eyes were on the crowd that day, he looked ahead in time."
When you’re young, those words feel like a grand, sweeping promise. But when you’ve hit eighty, the thought takes on a sharper edge. You start looking back at the decades—the failures, the quiet betrayals, the mornings you couldn’t get out of bed because the world felt too heavy—and you wonder how anyone could look at that version of you and still call it love. Most people, if they see you clearly, they eventually turn away. We keep our best faces for the public, but the Savior was looking at the actual, messy truth of my life, even then.
It reminds me of that moment in Luke, where Peter denies the Lord, and the text says Jesus simply turned and looked at him. There wasn’t a lecture, just the weight of being known.
Crabb sings about being "common flesh and bone," and that sits right with me. I’m tired of songs that try to convince me I’m some kind of hero for the Kingdom. Most days, I’m just trying to keep my own spirit from turning bitter. I don’t need a parade; I need mercy that is stubborn enough to stick around when I’ve lost my own footing.
“He knew me, yet he loved me.”
That’s the line that keeps me up sometimes. It’s a terrifying thought, really—that every dark thing, every selfish thought I ever hid behind a polite smile, was factored into the math of the Cross. It’s not a comfortable feeling. It’s unsettling to be seen that clearly. And yet, I don’t know where else a soul like mine could find a place to land.
If He hadn’t looked ahead, if He had only been concerned with the mob shouting for His blood right there in the dirt, I would have nothing to hold onto tonight. I’d just be an old man waiting for the dark. But the idea that His focus was split—that He was enduring the agony of the nails while simultaneously walking through the corridors of my future—it’s too big to fully wrap my head around. Maybe it’s not meant to be understood. Maybe it’s just meant to be believed when the lights go out and the house is quiet and you’re forced to sit with yourself.
I’m still not sure I’ve fully learned how to receive that kind of love. I suspect that’s something I’ll still be learning on the day I finally close my eyes for good.