Amy Carmichael

I’ve always liked this poem by missionary, songwriter, author, and poet Amy Carmichael. I’ve ocassional shared it with servants of God who’ve experienced a rough, faith-challenging episode. It’s one of the poems I revisit every Lent, and this year it inspired this sketch.

Has Thou No Scar?

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers; spent,
Leaned Me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beasts that compassed Me, I swooned.
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be,
And pierced are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who has no wound, no scar?

—Amy Charmichael