These thorns help me

Sometimes love comes dressed in pain,

God’s own lessons in a heartbreak name.

Didn’t ask for roses that bleed,

But maybe that’s the faith I need.

I’ve been hiding in the quiet rain,

Where the echoes call my name.

In the dark, the truth starts to show,

And honesty’s the only road I know.

[Bridge)

Everybody’s got a story behind their scars,

I’ve been learning who we really are.

’Cause I’ve been thorn-conscious, grace-anxious,

Fighting shadows, yeah, it’s dangerous.

Maybe weakness makes me strong,

Maybe pain’s been right all along.

I’ve been blind to the light so near,

But every cut brings Heaven clear.

Oh, these thorns—they hurt, but they heal,

Guess that’s how God makes it real.

Got some ghosts that call my name,

Old regrets, they feel the same.

Every heartbeat, every cry,

A little death before the high.

Maybe this thorn’s a line divine,

Keeping me safe one more time.

If I stop my heart from fear,

Maybe I’ll see what brought me here.

[Bridge)

We all bleed in different shades of grace,

Learning slowly to love this face.

Yeah, I’ve been thorn-conscious, grace-anxious,

Fighting shadows, yeah, it’s dangerous.

Maybe weakness makes me strong,

Maybe pain’s been right all along.

I’ve been blind to the light so near,

But every scar makes love sincere.

Oh, these thorns—they hurt, but they heal,

Guess that’s how God makes it real.

When the fire burns my tongue,

And the nights feel far too long,

Grace whispers, “Let it go, my child,

Every thorn’s been worth the while.”

Maybe pain’s a prayer in disguise,

Maybe tears are how I rise.

’Cause I’ve been thorn-conscious, grace-anxious,

Fighting shadows, yeah, it’s dangerous.

Maybe weakness makes me strong,

Maybe pain’s been right all along.

I’ve been blind to the light so near,

But every cut brings Heaven clear.

Oh, these thorns—they hurt, but they heal,

Guess that’s how God makes it real.

I’m thorn-conscious, grace-conscious,

Turning every hurt to promise.

Every scar a song I sing,

Every bruise a sacred thing.

I’m done chasing what’s gone wrong,

Now I’m living what’s been right all along.

Oh, these thorns—they hurt, but they heal,

Guess that’s how God makes it real.

Yeah, the thorns are how we grow,

And grace—the only way we’ll ever know.