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In the house of My friends

by Bettina Van Vaerenbergh

Jesus has engraved our names in the palms of His hands;
All the people of the world, all the nations, all the lands.
For all eternity the marks in His hands and body testify -
That to save us from sin, God's Son was even willing to die.
For all eternity those marks show, how to the cross He was led;
Just how much He suffered, how His precious blood was shed.
How His gentle hands were pierced, and the blood welled up;
Drop after crimson drop - Our New Testament cup.
How with slowly dying eyes, with sorrow and pain filled to the brim -
Jesus looked on His own who had cried: "Crucify Him!"
How He breathed a prayer, who was love through and through;
"Father in heaven, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Our Lord still carries those nail marks, and all through eternity -
They are a witness of God's undying love, for you and for me.
"How could I ever forget about you, child?", they wordlessly say;
"Look at My hands, they remind Me of you every single day."
And when someone asks:"What are these marks in Your hands?"
Love will answer:"The wounds I received in the house of My friends."

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