Tears in Heaven

Tears in Heaven


When we meet face to face, Jesus

And I see your hands,

So scarred, so marred,

Will my tears fall as I recall

My sin that caused your hands to bleed?

When you freed

My soul.

To the cross nailed. I failed

To see You.

Not as the artist painted, so tainted

With the worlds ideal image, but,

One more acquainted with grief than I know,

Written so long ago.

You bore my sorrow, sin, and pain.

Will my hand reach up to touch your face— to trace

The scars that cross your brow, and wonder how

You could bear such pain…such sorrow

Salvation my gain?

Man of sorrow acquainted with grief,

Did I hide my face from such ugly truth?

That you too have wept?

Tears. Tears in Heaven

How much will I cry?

Before you dry my eyes, as I recognize

Truth that hurts, truth that burns

I agonize with the death you died

The brutality, the reality.

Tears in Heaven

I weep for you, I weep for me.

For you. Because you stayed—Stayed on the cross.

For me, because now I see

how often You shared my pain, sorrow, despair,

While I accused you of hiding your face…of showing grace

To others, not me.

My accusations linger in the air between us . . .

“Why me God?”  “It’s not fair!”

“You don’t love me.” “You don’t care.”

Acquainted with grief, my grief, you stayed, you saved…you loved.

Tears in Heaven

Falling, cleansing, wiped away.

I say, “I’m sorry”

And you, lifting my quivering chin say, “Its okay”

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