Alabaster Box
by CeCe Winans

The room grew still
As she made her way to Jesus
She stumbles through
The tears that made her blind

She felt such pain
Some spoke in anger
Heard folks whisper,
There’s no place here
For her kind.

Still on she came,
Through the shame
That flushed her face
Until at last she knelt
Before his feet.
And though she spoke
No words everything
She said was heard.
As she poured her
Love for the Master
From her box of Alabaster.

And I’ve come to pour
My praise on Him
Like oil from Mary’s
Alabaster Box
Don’t be angry if I wash
His feet with my tears
And I dry them
With my hair.

You weren’t there the
Night he found me.
You did not feel what I
Felt when He wrapped
His love all around me
And you don’t know the
Cost of the oil in my
Alabaster Box.

I can’t forget the way
Life used to be
I was the prisoner to the
Sin that had me bound
And I spend my days pouring
My life without measure.
Into a little treasure box
I thought I found.

Until the day when
Jesus came to me
And healed my soul with
The wonder of His touch.
So now I giving back
To him all the praise
He’s worthy of,
I’ve been forgiven and
That’s why I love
Him so much.

And I’ve come to pour
My praise on Him
Like oil from Mary’s
Alabaster Box
Don’t be angry if I wash
His feet with my tears
And dry them
With my hair, my hair.

You weren’t there the
Night Jesus found me.
You did not feel what I
Felt when He wrapped
His loving all around me
And you don’t know the
Cost of the oil
Oh you don't know the cost
of my praise
You don't know the cost of the
oil in my Alabaster Box.
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