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Faithful Wounds

de Cory Asbury

God I’m wrestling with the waiting again
My impatience a disease in this cage for mice and men
They say, boy, you better keep running, but this pace I can’t sustain
My head knows to trust You but the heart of me is slain

Faithful are the wounds of a friend
Faithful, Lord, the dealings of Your hand
The troubles and the trials
Like the gold refined in fire
Faithful are the wounds of a friend

God these questions they just won’t leave me alone
Will this crushing ever end or is this ache now my home
Am I a prisoner of hope or just the warden of my pain
My head knows to trust You but the heart of me is slain

Faithful are the wounds of a friend
Faithful like the tides pulled by Your hand
I’ve learned to kiss the waves that push my soul into the caves
Faithful are the wounds of a friend

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