Since setting minds on things above is hard
Since setting minds on things above is hard,
The mind always diverting to the place
Of greatest comfort, fearing open space;
Since often thoughts break off in weary shards
And off we go, empty, scanning the yard
Of day’s vacuum confusions, seeking peace
But scared to look directly at His face:
Let’s look instead upon the scars He bears;
Look at the throne He mounted, at His crown.
If, seeing in this sight our fractured shame,
Our minds connect through brokenness and tears,
Then we, perhaps, might sing to be His own
And turn aside from all He overcame.
The Consolations of Writing 