Mawathe Katu Thibunath

Though there are thorns upon the path,
though the stones and gravel are many,
though my stepping feet keep sinking in,
though filthy dust comes falling down,
though I trip and fall today,
though I take bloody wounds,
I will come to the place where you can be seen,
even though my body’s strength is failing

In the moment I stood alone, without the sight of you,
comfort this weeping heart of mine
Jesus, come, take me by the hand,
and lead me to the place where I ought to be

This is a hymn of dogged perseverance, the song of a pilgrim determined to reach God no matter how rough the road. Its first verse is a catalogue of everything that makes the journey hard, “thorns upon the path,” “stones and gravel,” feet that “keep sinking in,” “filthy dust,” tripping, falling, “bloody wounds.” Nothing is prettied up. And yet after each obstacle comes the same unshaken resolve: “I will come to the place where you can be seen, even though my body’s strength is failing.” The determination is not based on strength, which is running out, but on love and longing for God.

That honesty about weakness is important. The singer does not boast that he can make it on his own; he admits “my body’s strength is failing” even as he vows to keep going. This is faith that presses on precisely when it feels least able to.

And so the second verse turns from resolve to a humble cry for help. In “the moment I stood alone, without the sight of you,” when God felt absent, the plea is simply “comfort this weeping heart.” And the final request is the most trusting of all: the pilgrim admits he cannot finish the journey by himself and asks God to finish it for him, “Jesus, come, take me by the hand, and lead me to the place where I ought to be.” What the listener is left with is a moving picture of the life of faith, a traveller stumbling bloodied over a thorny road toward God, refusing to quit, and finally reaching out for the hand that will carry him the rest of the way home.