- For Clare, the Bunsas, and all who wander with scars. -
So many that I love
with a place firm in my heart,
I cannot bear their burdens,
They wander on with scars.
Deep chasms of despair,
pits of helplessness and grief,
wounds inflicted beyond their choice,
bravely rising, each day to face anew.
There is one,
One who bears our scars,
takes them not away,
but wills us to survive.
Breathless moments of confusion,
a fog falls over The Great Plan.
doubt, anger, all in an instant,
yet there remains One.
Pass through, pass through the gates!
Lift up a mournful battle cry.
Advance, walk on, for every step
brings strength to the weak,
stirs hope for the weary.
Lift a torn and aged banner for the nations!
Announce in your brokenness;
The Lord comes, the Lord delivers,
See, His reward is with Him.
Lift up tear-filled eyes,
gaze upon Him,
whose mouth bestows upon you
a new name.
You will be a crown of splendour
in the Lord's hand,
a royal diadem
in the hand of your God.
You will be called the Holy People,
the Redeemed of the Lord;
and you will be called Sought After,
the City No Longer Deserted.