When one ponders what is sometimes called the “redemptive nature of suffering,” questions inevitably arise. These must be wrestled with, as no glib answer will satisfy.
From dread and rank scorn
My bones melt; my spirit fades
But my trust stays strong.
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The suff’ring servant
Who bears the wrongs of many
Is to be praised well.
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It is an odd grace
that one man should suffer so
that many might live
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Wondering Pilgrim 