I hurt when I think of

The things that he suffered

The way in which He died

Wounds taken in my place

Inflicted upon Him

Sweet Son of the Most High

Death, were you so sure

When you silenced the Master

Yet, where is your sting?

The garden tomb is so empty

He stole your trophy away

When He opened His eyes

See those scars, precious scars

How they prove

What the Savior went through

Do you love those old scars

For the strength they bring to you

Reminders that suffering

Was part of His plan for you

Got some of my own scars

Some hurt to remember

Those emblems of old pain

And though everyone has them

I sometimes want to hide them

When they go to aching

But pain is a tool

In the hands of the Surgeon

And to share in His love

I must share in His suffering

And if scars were all that I had

I'd do it all just the same

See those scars, precious scars

Proof of battles

He brought you through

Learn to love those old scars

For the strength they bring to you

Reminders that wounds

Are a part of His plan for you

Reminders that healing

Is a part of His plan for you, you