Posted on 04/03/2010 8:14:23 AM PDT by pastorbillrandles
This is a beautiful poem written by Edward Shillito, a British veteran of the horrors of World War I
JESUS OF THE SCARS
If we have never sought, we seek Thee now: Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars; We must have sight of thorn pricks on Thy brow; We must have thee, O Jesus of the scars.
The heavens frighten us; they are too calm; In all the universe we have no place; Our wounds are hurting us, where is the balm? Lord Jesus, by Thy scars we claim Thy grace.
If when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near, Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine; We know today what wounds are, have no fear, Show us the scars, we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong, but thou wast weak; They rode, but thou didst stumble to a throne, But to our wounds, only God’s wounds can speak, And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.
Scars, that He wears, tell us we're the reason for the cross He bears.
In His hands, and in His side, show us we're the reason that He lived and died.
And you must choose, where you are.....Scars
Scars, for a ransom, sold, tell the greatest story that was ever told.
About Him, about love, and the mercy that was given from above.
And you must choose, where you are,....Scars.
And you cannot go back,
Living like you'll live forever.
You must bear a burdon far......Scars.
And Scars, for a nation pray.
The will see those scars and be saved in a day
When He comes and He stands, on that Holy Mountain where it all began.
And you must choose where you are.....Scars.
copyright 2008
beautiful- thank you-
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