IT WAS during the World War, when Britain was experiencing some of the terrible air raids, that an aged preacher was staying at a London hotel. He was walking down the street one day when he came up with a wounded soldier who was painfully making his way along with crutches. The old minister stopped. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, “Thank you for being wounded for me!” The soldier looked up in astonishment. It had never occurred to him in that light. It made the heavy burden he had to bear a little easier that someone had cared to stop and thank him. The soldier was amazed!
Then the quiet voice went on: “I can tell you of Someone who was wounded for you.” The look of surprise deepened.
“Wounded for me, sir?”
“Yes,” said the old man. “Wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed.” Then he told him very simply the wonderful story of the cross and of the Saviour who had hung and died there for him.
As I read this story in bed that night, it seemed to thrill me—losses and terrible war experiences seemed to fade, and the simple old gospel story shone out brighter than ever. That night it gripped me afresh. I felt I would like to sing forever, “Wounded for Me.” He, the blessed Son of God, was wounded for me! The words of the chorus came to me and, fearing I might forget them in the morning, I got out of bed and put them on paper, and then in a few days sat down to the piano and found the little tune. Hundreds of thousands of copies of this chorus have been sent out and many have been helped. May it help you, dear reader. Do you believe “He was wounded for you?” He was. Receive Him, thank Him, and then serve Him with gladness until you see Him face to face.
Wounded for me, wounded for me;
There on the cross He was wounded for me;
Gone my transgressions and now I am free,
All because Jesus was wounded for me.
ML-12/21/1969