Healing Scars

Our pastor read an astonishing poem this morning that I believe can comfort any parent dealing with a special needs child.  I find little in cyberspace about the author, Edward Shillito, who apparently wrote this as he ministered to the troubled hearts of men returning from the battlefields of World War I.  I don't use words like "astonishing" very easily, but believe this warrants such a reaction both for its literary accomplishments and theological contemplation.

"Jesus of the Scars"

A poem by Edward Shillito (1872-1948), a Free Church minister in England:

If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.
The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace.
If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,
Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.