Scars and Souvenirs

She keeps her scars like souvenirs
Locked inside a vault of tears
Reminder of a by-gone year
That taunts her now and then
And in this dark and dim recess
They play a tortured game of chess
Which will steal her happiness
If she feels glad again?

One day amidst the cruel assault
Of memories locked inside this vault
Attacking her with blame and guilt
She fell upon her knees
And there in brokenness and tears
She cried out to the God who hears
There He took her souvenirs
In answer to her pleas

He held out a tender hand
So that she could understand
The depth of love in this great Friend
And then she saw His scars
These the offering a King
Souvenir of suffering
Scars of love so we may bring
Our burdens to His arms

All rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Don't be afraid; just believe. Mark 5:36