Those scars threw
ancient gates
of glory wide.
The heavens declare the glory of God.
Everyday, everywhere, near and abroad,
He’s crafting both a sunset and a sunrise.
At all times illustrating with His painted skies
His beauty for all men to recognize.
.
And while He’s showing one half of the globe,
The tinges of a light we cannot yet behold,
For us, He flings stars across the sky.
So dense in places, the black of night they defy.
Others so fine they’re hidden from man’s eye.
Beyond that, hang heavens we cannot quantify.
.
Look closer to valley lit by sun’s rays,
Or to gently shadowed groves that go on for days.
See His handiwork in ev’ry season!
From the waking of spring to diligent bees in
Fields that in harvest turn gold, and trees in
Autumn clad in colors with perfect cohesion,
To death in winter not without reason.
.
He authored it all, each breathtaking view.
Of His own radiance, inspiration He drew.
Ev’ry beautiful thing, each stunning sight,
That gave you pause or produced in you delight,
Was drawn from His innate beauty and might.
The loveliness of a bride on her wedding night,
The pleasure as she and her groom unite,
His captivating nature these all cite.
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If that were all, you ought praise Him well,
And forever of His Glories and goodness tell.
But, oh, dear sinner, there is so much more!
All His creation tells of His beauty galore,
And proclaims His grace on every shore.
His grace? Yes, of His merciful plan to restore.
If He is beauty why come plain and poor?
In man’s midst, our fallenness he did not abhor.
Rather felt pity for the sick and sore.
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How did the cross, the grave sing his beauty?
Oh, look closer, lost one! See how he comes for me?
See that blood dripping in His heav’nly eye?
The agony that warps his face and makes him cry,
The sunken ribs, the great gash in his side,
They herald my freedom the means to justify.
Those scars threw ancient gates of glory wide.
In ugliness of His death made worthy, was I.
That poor body that was broken and died,
Is more loved and fair than all the stars in the sky.
.
On that day, He will be our moon, our sun,
No need for light beyond the most beautiful One.
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Feminine 101 