Beauteous One

Gentle smile,
warm embrace,

Merry laughter,
familiar face,

Act of kindness,
singing voice,

Blazing sunrise,
brave man’s choice,

Misty hill,
sparkling sea,

Things that are and that will be,

Mercy’s hand,
in darkness shown,

Seeds of truth
in good earth sown

Forgiveness’ fair face,
shafted sunlight in a wood,

flashes of glory,
dim-lit images of good.

Stop there if you will,
But please, perceive with me,
the echo of His footsteps here,
as just part of the key.

Turn your eyes to the setting sun,
with ears to hear, and eyes to see;
Gaze with me at the Beauteous One.

In the mother who shelters you safe from a storm,
In the lover who holds you close and warm,
See the Beauteous One.

In the father who prays with his children at night,
In friendship which brings a warm glow like a light,
See the Beauteous One.

In the loving hand that wipes your tears,
In the voice that stills all frets and fears
See the Beauteous One.

Yet will I turn my face to You, O Beauteous One?
How good You are to me, how good,
unrestrained in love!

Yours the provision
that amazes me still
Yours the power
to empty or fill

Yours the giver, and those who receive,
Yours the brokenhearted, Yours those who bleed,
Yours the self-reliant, the arrogant and proud,
Yours the turning, of the lost into found.

Yours the perfection
You traded for my brokenness!
Hear me when I say,
that I freely must confess:

Mine was the cross You carried,
mine the guilt, mine the shame,
mine the insult-laden, mocking voice;
My back should have borne the blame

of the torture whip, of the crown of thorns,
Oh! see what I have done!
the marks of the nails that marred the wrists
of Jesus, the Beauteous One.

For me?
Dare I believe it?
Because You said so – yes,
Praise to the name of the Beauteous One!
For all time, let it be said

That Yours is the victory over death,
over guilt, and shame, and sin,
Yours the resurrection in glorious pow’r,
so I might be welcomed in.

Not of my own account,
but by His vict’ry won,
So it may not be I but Christ in me,
The living, shining Son.

Lord Jesus, Beauteous One,
why are You so good to me?

I fall, falter, build not on rock but sand,
I walk on water; tho’ when I sink,
in pride, I oft refuse Your merciful hand…

Yet You love me with a Love I cannot buy,
Thank You, Jesus, but sometimes I wonder – why?
Then I remember…

You know me, yet You love me, and You’ve paid the cost,
‘The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost’.

Third Culture Kid

Where are you from?
I don’t know.
Well, you must be from somewhere!
Is that so?

Where do you consider ‘home’?
Man, if I only knew…
Which country did you like the most?
I don’t know, so I can’t tell you.

So do you speak a lot of languages?
Is it bad if I say no?
Was it weird always moving around?
Well, it was my whole life, so….

Did you ever want a normal life?
Tell me, what’s normal, eh?
I mean, always staying in one place?
Nah – I love being a TCK!