When our hearts are scarred
When our hearts are scarred
Tears run freely down our cheeks
We weep in the dead of the night
Hoping no one will hear the silent sobbing.
Tears run freely down our cheeks
We weep in the dead of the night
Hoping no one will hear the silent sobbing.
When our hearts are scarred
All we see is an endless dark tunnel
Smiles fade in the darkness of our pain
All we hear is the dark sound of endless pain.
All we see is an endless dark tunnel
Smiles fade in the darkness of our pain
All we hear is the dark sound of endless pain.
When our hearts are scarred
Our thoughts are as a whirlwind
As we ask ourselves, why, oh why?
Why does it seem like the pain we feel is ravaging the very core of who we are?
Our thoughts are as a whirlwind
As we ask ourselves, why, oh why?
Why does it seem like the pain we feel is ravaging the very core of who we are?
When our hearts are scarred
We know not what to do
We know not what to say
All we know is that the pain and the tears are there.
We know not what to do
We know not what to say
All we know is that the pain and the tears are there.
When our hearts are scarred
We curl up in our inner selves
Hiding our hearts from further hurt
As we seek to mend our broken hearts.
We curl up in our inner selves
Hiding our hearts from further hurt
As we seek to mend our broken hearts.
When our hearts are scarred
Is it possible to cry out, "Abba Father, help me!"
Is it possible to hear the still small voice?
Is it possible to cast our eyes onto Him?
Is it possible to cry out, "Abba Father, help me!"
Is it possible to hear the still small voice?
Is it possible to cast our eyes onto Him?
When our hearts are scarred
When we weep our eyes dry
When we weep our voices hoarse
When we weep ourselves to sleep
He hears. He sees. He feels. He understands.
When we weep our eyes dry
When we weep our voices hoarse
When we weep ourselves to sleep
He hears. He sees. He feels. He understands.
His is the Hand that lifts us out of the miry clay
His is the face that shines upon us
His is the voice that urges us to stand still
His is the balm that heals the scarred heart.
His is the face that shines upon us
His is the voice that urges us to stand still
His is the balm that heals the scarred heart.
.....
"I will lift up my eyes to the hills. From whence comes my help? My help comes from the LORD, Who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber. The LORD is your keeper; The LORD is your shade at your right hand." Psalm 121:1-3, 5
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