Well Done, Good And Faithful - Andrew Peterson

Why has my God, my soul forsook, nor will a smile afford

Thus David once in anguish spoke and thus our dying Lord

Oh it’s Your chief delight to dwell among Your praising saints

And yet You hear us groan as well and pity our complaints

Our fathers trusted in Your name and great deliverance found

But He’s a worm despised of men who trod him to the ground

Men shake their heads and pass Him by and laugh His soul to scorn

‘In vain He trusts in God', they cry, neglected and forlorn

But You are He who formed His flesh by Your own mighty word

And since He hung upon the breast His hope was in the Lord

Why would His father hide His face when foes stand threatening ‘round

In His dark hour of deep distress and not a helper found

Why, oh why, my God?

Why, oh why, my God?

For the joy set before Him He endured

And is seated at the right hand of the Throne

Well done, good and faithful, well done

Well done, good and faithful One

Behold Your dear One left along with the cruel and the proud

As mighty bulls so fierce and strong, as lions roaring loud

For mirth and hell and sorrows meet to multiply the pain

They nail His hands, they pierce His feet and mock Him yet again

Yet if Your sovereign hand let loose the rage of earth and hell

Why would my Heavenly Father bruise the Son He loved so well?

He prayed in dark Gethsemane, ‘Withhold this bitter cup'

But He resigned His will to Thee and drank the sorrows up

Our Savior cried with David’s grief, in groans I waste my breath

Thy hand has brought me down beneath the bitter dust of death

And then He gave His spirit up to trust it in Your hand

His dying flesh reposed in hope, to rise at Your command

Why, oh why, my God?

Why, oh why, my God?

For the joy before Him He endured

And is seated at the right hand of the Throne

Well done, good and faithful, well done

Well done, good and faithful, well done

Well done good and faithful One