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How BeautifulIsaiah 53:4 Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. 5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. How Beautiful How beautiful are His nail-pierced hands… hands that carried my sorrows. I know His great arm shields me from harm. Christ has me hidden from sunrise to sunset- as every day melts into every night. How beautiful are His nail-pierced hands… hands that carried my sorrows. Inspired by Our Lord Julie Pisacane © 2006 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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