I have a beauty mark,
Disguised as a scar.
The beauty is in the fact,
That I have matured afar.
No longer as confined,
By the scrutiny of another.
Those who love me accept me,
As a friend and as a brother.
If there be one who would shun—
My company because of my scar,
That’s all right, I understand.
I once was where they now are.
But me, I’ve been changed,
Mind renewed, heart smartened.
Jesus looked past all my scars.
In Him, I am heartened.
Because of love,
He became scarred for me,
With me. What a blessing.
By reason of His scars, I’m free.
Grace triumphs over every blemish.
Yes, I’m scarred now, but not ever.
Grace cleanses and makes new,
Unveiling glory that lasts forever.
Consider this—Scars can make way for new light and life.
Behold, I make all things new…
I Owe Jesus
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