At one time or the other, we have been wounded;
Could be spiritual, physical, emotional or all.
There are those that have been hurt by another's tongue;
Maybe a slap from someone that you love 
and had done no wrong.



Wounded, we have been, in so many ways,
That we want to cry during the day.
At night, our pillow is wet with tears
Because of the heartache, or maybe fears.



We are not broken, through these hurts we face,
Just wounded and crying because of this place
That we are, now, in and have no where to run.
Wounded, not broken, another day we can go on ...



Living for the Lord, Jesus, because He really knows
Where the hurt is taking us and making us brave.
Grief is a terrible pain that we endure.
It may not pass, but God will be there for sure.



He loves me more than I can ever say,
The love that surrounds me when daily I pray.
"Wounded, not broken, my child," He will say.
"Hold my hand and I will take you through the day."


 
©Sarah Berthelson
2004
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author
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