You bruised my arms in delight
Thinking it would shift my gaze to you
You watched as blood gushed in relish
Waiting slithering on your belly
Yet through it all I'll look to the King.
I'll rejoice in my pains,
Cause a seed is born
One who would bruise your head.
I'll let the blood drip on the altar
As I offer the bruised arms in worship
He is the Balm of Gilead and in Him I am whole.
Oh! The riches of his Person.
Now gifted with new arms
Ones refined, transformed and transcending.
Along with my scars as a badge
My scars, my mat, my testimony.
In worship of the Everlasting King,
Boundless and beyond human perception
The Source, I AM
My Father and my God.