With our physical lives broken,
With hope fading into fear,
Bodies failing or cut open,
Fates we never want to hear:
Where is Christ, the Great Physician?
Where is Jesus’ healing touch?
Dare we question why this torment,
Why we suffer pain so much?
Have we sinned somehow, unwitting?
Have we failed to honor you?
Is there some great deed of service
That we somehow failed to do?
Though your words refute such wond’ring,
Make it clear that’s not your way,
Still we cannot help but question
When there’s nothing left to say.
Still you promise not to leave us,
Though our doubting is not stayed.
You have claimed us in your kingdom,
Ev’n amidst our fears arrayed.
Let us not despair of knowing
That your care for us is real,
Even if we don’t recover
Or our wounds can never heal.
Text: CSF, 2019.
Music: Suggested tune BEACH SPRING, The Sacred Harp, 1844.
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