The Hand of Freedom Has a Scar

 
Bound by the chains from my choices,
I struggle with many voices
that lead me here and send me there
in search of freedom and my share
of what I’m told that is my right;
but I have no more will to fight.

From shadows dark, I start to cry
afraid to live and scared to die.
I cannot see the light of day.
Colors bright have turned to gray.
My throat is parched, I cannot speak.
I try to rise, but I’ve grown weak.

Within what feels will be my grave,
I sense a Presence come to save
into this place where I now dwell
to lift me from this pit of hell.
My eyes are blind; I cannot stand
as I reach for His scarred hand.

He hears my cry and sees my fear
and whispers to me, “I am here.”
He brings me out into the light,
restores my strength and my sight,
destroys the chains that held me bound,
and sets me on the solid ground.

Then as He looks into my face,
I’m stunned by His amazing grace.
Although I caused my own demise,
I see no rebuke in His eyes,
nor does He look on me with shame.
There is no guilt, nor any blame.

The depth of love seen on His face
dissolves my feelings of disgrace.
The freedom that so long I’d sought
had a price but can’t be bought.
Through His blood and in His name,
release from bondage finally came.

Copyright  © September 27, 2006 by Karen M. Crump