The Gospel in the Thorn

In the beginning, there were no thorns

A rose was fragrant and well adorned,

But after sin the ground was cursed,

For a blessing not a hurt.

The man was sent to work the ground,

To reduce the tide of evil to abound,

But everywhere now there seemed to be,

Thorns and thistles, briers and weeds.

But why God, so many thorns?

The man asked, tired and worn.

My child, God said, Remember this,

Thorns will one day fill your heart with thankfulness.

Sin had brought the sharpened edges

Of thorns and briers, nettles and hedges,

How could there be a blessing in it all?

For all had come as a result of the fall.

Time moved on and so did they,

In Egypt did they make their way,

Here the thorn was used against the man,

In a whip by the Egyptian hand.

God had promised to set them free,

To bring them out to liberty,

The slave was too to worship his God,

Not to die under the oppressor’s rod.

Into freedom they came

A land of plenty, a land of fame.

Where the slave now could bow,

Before his Maker unrestrained.

But do not observe the nations around,

For they will lead onto forbidden ground,

And once again the curse among you will abide,

The sins will be thorns in your sides.

Break up, break up your fallow ground,

So not thorns all year round,

For in the harvest you will be left empty,

In the land of the full, the land of the plenty.

But none would hear Him,

All turned away,

The best of them a brier,

To Him, a piercing dismay.

Therefore I, says the Lord,

Will turn and hedge up your way with thorns,

To stop you on the downward bend,

To show you that I am your Friend.

But they hid themselves among the thorns,

To hide from the God they had scorned,

And finally they were sold again

As bondmen in their very own land.

God looked below and saw no man,

To rescue them for the enemies hand,

So He sent His only Son to roam,

To search and bring the bride back home.

But they were trapped in thorns without number,

Their hearts were sharp and had been plundered,

Would He dare to risk His life

To wade through briers to find His wife?

Or would He turn and start again,

With someone else, a better friend?

In battle, says He,

Who would set thorns and briers against me?

Then come and let them see,

That those thorns I will march through

Those briers I’ll burn,

My love it will chase you until you return.

But Him they despised,

His love they rejected,

The poisonous darts,

Their hearts had infected.

Till finally they took the thorns they had chosen

And with their own hands, a crown was woven,

It placed on His head, but just as He said,

Those thorns I will march through,

Those briers I’ll burn,

My love it will chase you until you return.

Finally in His last breath He cried,

It is finished, and then He died,

Everything He could, He’d done,

To save every lost daughter and prodigal son.

As one looked at His blood stained face,

A light shined in that heart disgraced,

And sin and darkness all gave way,

As faith and repentance dawned a bright new day.

My child, God said, Remember this,

Thorns will one day fill your heart with thankfulness.

And finally the man now understood,

That God, from evil, could bring out good.

The crown of thorns the Saviour had worn,

Was the sign He had conquered all He’d sworn,

No king’s brow was ever more adorned,

Then when our Saviour braved the crown of thorns.

In the land made new, where in Him everyone believes,

There’ll be trees filled with flowers, and soft ever green leaves,

And throughout the whole universe,

There will never be found one thorn of the curse.


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