We stumble, bleeding from our wounds,

weak from loss.

We carry damaged hearts—throbbing arrhythmias—pain, pain, and numbness, pain, numbness, numbness, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain…

We run, racing our overprotective minds

to safety—to darkness. 

We hide, we shield, we bandage, but the wounds are infected. 

We cannot heal ourselves. 

Oh Jesus, Lord of all, 

who fell beneath the cross,

who felt the loss of all,

who did not shield Yourself from pain,

Your wounds bring us to the Healer.