Less Like Scars

Less Like Scars by Sara Groves

copyright 2004 Mantle Music and Northern Heart Media

It's been a hard year/But I'm climbing out of the rubble/ These lessons are hard/ Healing changes are subtle

But every day it's Less like tearing, more like building /Less like captive, more like willing/ Less like breakdown, more like surrender/ Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel you here/And you're picking up the pieces /Forever faithful/It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation /But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt/ Look less like scars and more like Character

Less like a prison, more like my room /It's less like a casket, more like a womb /Less like dying, more like transcending /Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel you here /And you're picking up the pieces /Forever faithful

It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation /But you are able /And in your hands the pain and hurt/ Look less like scars

Just a little while ago /I couldn't feel the power or the hope/ I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing /Just a little while back I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping

You would come /And I need you /And I want you here /And I feel you And I know you're here /And you're picking up the pieces /Forever faithful

It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation /But you are able /And in your hands /the pain and hurt /Look less like scars (x3) /And more like Character

I heard this song on the radio today and cried like a baby. Don't know why... but it was cleansing. After "It's been a hard year," I just broke down.

It has been a hard year. Beautifully difficult. It started out with joy, selling books, signing contracts and then . . . well, let's just say things got tight like a bad suit. But at the sound of those lyrics, I admitted to God and myself that some of it was just pain rotten, but looking less scars and more like a bracelet, a necklace, a jagged elegant thing.

Off to CBD to order the CD, but I had to share. Sara is really becoming one of my faves in a Maggie Becker sort of way. And to think that two days ago, I was on a total Donnie McClurkin binge. What can I say? Praise opens me, beckons for me to open my reluctant rose of a heart. I want to write the way they sing. One day.

I am so strange...and wonderful. Just like you.

May your day, your week, be more like dancing barefooted in an open field of joy, dancing to the rhythms of grace.

--Mary