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”
Zombie Ministry 