Didn't see You there, didn't know You were weeping too,

I think of tears as a human wound;

Though of course You care, You have shown

You were human too,

They say You cried at Lazarus' tomb.

I was unaware how it is with a broken God,

I thought of You as above my pain;

Lost in my despair, so it is with a broken heart,

I never dreamed You could feel the same.

Once, in a magazine I saw a face

Wrinkled up in grief and travailed grace,

I kept looking to that face, some sad refugee in some

sad place,

And in his eyes the sorrow of our race,

Then I saw it was the face of God, the face of God

Your face, dear God.

Some say You're not there, just a myth for a lazy life,

An artifact from an ancient scroll,

But I have known You near in the gift of a weary sigh,

Lord of the lost and the lonesome soul.

I was unaware how it is with a broken God,

I never dreamed You could feel the same.