He was working late one evening

He was working late one evening
With the wood he knew so well
When she thought
she recognized him
Though at first,
She couldn't tell

As she humbly begged his pardon
A strange sadness swelled inside
When she asked,
"Aren't you the father
of that man they crucified?"
Then the carpenter repeated
What he'd said so many times
He said, "I was not His father,
He was mine."

Then he humbly went on working
With those worn
and caloused hands
Though she did not ask
more questions
He knew she didn't understand.

So he asked if she would help him
He saw her answer
in a glance
And she did the chores
he asked her
She was so grateful for the chance
Then they talked for hours of Jesus
And how he knew He was divine
He said "I was not His father,
He was mine.

How could one
So foolish and so flawed
Ever hope to raise
the Son of God?"

Then he spoke
of the misgivings
That he had had
a thousand times
And how Jesus found
the tender moments
To let him know
He'd done just fine

And then the carpenter recited
The greatest truths
he'd ever learned
And testified
they came from Jesus
And then her heart
within her burned.

They embraced as she departed,
And Joseph told her one more time,
"Tell them I was not His father
Tell them He was mine.
No, I was not His father,
He was mine."

Words and music: Michael McLean