Oh Lord, to hold her face
within Your Hands;
To view those wrinkles in her brow,
Those eyes not shiny now.
The lips that cursed the life she knew;
Her strain at life's demands.
Lord Jesus, when you look into her eyes,
Do You see the tears she cried?
Can You see her broken heart,
When people turned away,
Or the scars from cruel remarks
That they had to say?
Do You see fear and madness
that she tries to hide inside?
Could her vulgarity take You by surprise?
To hold her face and see the lines
of worried discontent.
The pain she brought to herself and others.
Tortured in thought.
Was it what she wrought,
As memory smothers the Love that You sent?
You may see lust, and You may see greed.
You may see pain, love, and hate.
There may be inspiration hiding somewhere;
But, I know there is loneliness
And despair standing there;
Shattered like glass from the weight.
Watch her bleed.
Could You care, when others did not?
Do You still see her beauty somewhere?
Can You find what has truly been lost?
Can You pay the price that it cost,
With labor and love needed there;
Or is it all forgot?
Yes, God, she's broken like clay,
And at the Potter's Wheel.
Restore her soul.
You alone can make her whole.
Reshape this death to abundant life.
Make it real;
My prayer today.
Lord, to hold her face
Within Your Hands,
And see the love I do;
Those wise wrinkles in her brow,
The eyes that sparkle now.
The lips that sing of life renew;
Her smile at life's demands.
Lord, when You look into her eyes,
You can see a loving heart in place.
Sanity at last, restored,
And, all the love You could afford.
With Mercy in Your Face,
Peace and Contentment lies.

Ida Rosetta Raye Johnson












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