When I am broken and in need
Of one to make me whole,
I turn me to the Shepherd and
The Bishop of my soul.
Whose stripes are made my healing balm;
Whose cross, my means of grace;
Whose crown of thorns, the token that
He stands there in my place.
His arms, though opened wide, are not
Held back, I see, by nails;
But by a fervent love for me
Of God, which never fails.
For that, through faith, which keeps me his-
The power of God to save-
I clearly see when I behold
Him risen from the grave.
And by his life I know my trial
Of faith will soon be done:
I cannot suffer more than he
Whose trials my life has won.
So I resolve that when my faith
In Christ be sorely tried,
He will, though others curse his name,
By me be glorified.