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.

I stumbled across this poem recently and was so deeply moved. It’s so easy to only think of God in terms of being

All powerful

Omnipotent

Immovable

Strong

Indestructible-

He is the superlative of every strength imaginable- and yet, our Savior has scars. That last verse “The other gods were strong, but You were weak. They rode, but You stumbled to Your throne.” It’s so compellingly beautiful to realize a wounded God has become our Comforter. He does not come to us smug and demanding, he sees us with compassionate eyes and shows us mercy because he walked a mile in our shoes.