Then Bruise Me

A tiny speck in the Hands of a Glorious God
Oh that You regard this speck as anything at all
that You left Glory to nail Yourself to a Cross
to make us holy, to forgive us, and love the ones
who humiliated You, who spat at You, who mocked You
Oh that You pick us up, and dust us off, that You find worth
in the dirt under Your Feet, that You regard the earth
at all, Your Footstool,
Blessed are those clumps of the earth, who recognize
the vanity of their lives
Blessed are those whose souls have been crushed in this hour
and the wine squeezed from them
Blessed are the little children who hear the voice of their Father
and abandon all to run after Him
who shout in the deep places, "Glory! Glory!
He will return to us, The Holy One Named Jesus
will return to us, and collect us from every corner
of this fallen world
*He will find us at His Work, casting the fish nets
wide, bearing the insults and the marks of His Glory!
We run to You, we fly to You quickly now
not for reward or gain, we sell all, throw the riches
and burn them as dross, desiring only You
I cast myself off, to receive Your Righteousness
In faith I come Lord
If it please You to bruise me,
as it pleased the Father to bruise You

then bruise me.