Oh, what is it that is precious to me,
What draws me to my knees?
Not in fear, but sweet surrender.
The scars on You, for me.
The scars left by the marks of pain;
My sin, betrayal, rebellion.
Your scars prove that Your love for me,
Will o’er these have dominion.
What also do I hold so dear,
That which keeps me on my knees?
Not downcast, but in adoration.
Is it not the scars of mine I see.
Do not my scars two truths proclaim;
Show of defeat and victory?
The path of brokenness I’ve walked,
By Jesus’ blood, I’m healed and free.
New life Christ walks, new flesh He has.
And so too, soon, will I.
But ever precious to us both,
Our scars, just to remind.