Tag Archives: Forgiven

SACRIFICE

16 Sep

By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.”  Hebrews 13:15  KJV

The Ancient of Days,

cast Himself to the earth,

in the form of a seed,

in the womb of a virgin.

Subject, now, to heat and cold,

to fatigue and illness,

to prejudice and ridicule,

to suffering and pain.

The Ancient of Days,

became man,

flesh, blood and Spirit;

willingly giving,

the power of deity,

for the birth of a nation.

The God of Jessie,

born through the sacrifice of blood,

to become the blood sacrifice.

From the promises to Adam,

to the revelation shown John,

the blood of God coursed the earth,

changing strength and direction,

at the tributary called Christ.

The new stream of Christ,

fed the trees of new life,

where the roots of the old,

were washed clean.

The water, most pure,

chased the stagnant pools of red,

that once rinsed man’s hands,

but touched not the soul.

The water, most pure,

flowed over and cleansed,

the wounds of the past,

refreshing the hope,

of a dark, tarnished dream.

The water of life,

borne from the blood,

of an innocent man,

takes sweet revenge,

on the deepest of sin.

Released to be washed,

by the power of mercy,

by the treasure of grace,

it rises back up,

to the base of the cross.

There, at the cross,

the blood and water,

of grace and mercy,

flows down to the earth,

as forgiven sin reaches up,

meeting at the feet of Christ.

Running together they became one,

the earth shook with promise,

the sky darkened,

to reveal a new light,

and the rivers flowed,

with a new wine,

washing clean the weary souls,

of all that would reach forth,

in praise.

 

 

Written 10-18-1998

I FORGIVE

22 Dec

 

The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.” Jeremiah 31:3

Someone carelessly speaks words of pain,

Showering down and restoring old wounds.

My mind submits to you, Lord,

I forgive and reach out in love.

But my heart slips deep into a void,

Refusing to listen,

Refusing to obey,

Reuniting the moment with the pain,

Over and Over.

I struggle with an inner battle,

Back and forth,

Praying that my heart

Will melt in obedience,

Releasing the hurt inside.

I fast and pray,

Lord, show me the way.

My own shortcomings,

Rise up before me.

My spirit grieves,

Was I forgiven?

How could I,

Forgiven for such as these,

Not forgive.

How could I,

Loved, in spite of my shame,

Not love.

 

Written 5/11/95

 

Forsaken

11 Nov

  Jesus with Cross - the Passion

And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”–which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Mark 15:34 (NIV)

Easter has always been a hard day for me.  I love the music.  I love the spring clothing.  I love the new growth and flowers in bloom.  I love the promise of God that comes with the resurrection.  But, I can’t even think on the crucifixion and what it meant.

When I think about Jesus, and all He did during the 3 years of recorded ministry, hanging on a cross, ripped, bleeding, nailed; I cry.  When I recognize that the torture they put Him through was a sacrifice for my sins and a door to my eternal life; I cry.  How could this perfect man be so destroyed by a sin-filled people, didn’t they understand who He was?  He performed miracles before them and taught them the message of love and forgiveness.  How could they not know?

I wonder what God was feeling at the moment the soldiers stood the cross in place, the tortured body of His Son nailed to the front.  He had a plan, and His Son was the critical element of that plan, but He was also a father.

One of my children made a very poor decision and was picked up by the police department.  He was in the back of the squad car calling “Mom, Mom, Mom . . . !”  I wasn’t allowed to go near the car or speak to him.  Those words still echo in my head and mind and I get overwhelmed with emotion, knowing that my child needed me and the comfort of my words, but that there was nothing I could do.  Is that how God felt when Jesus cried out “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?”  In the late hours of a dark night do they continue to haunt Him like my child’s words continue to haunt me?  Or was the outcome so powerfully wonderful that the echoes are diminished with love?

God, please forgive me for my portion of the plan that Your Son endured for me.  Hold me ever accountable to the call You placed on my life before the world was formed, and later when you formed me in my mother’s womb.  Let me always be diligent in praising You and sharing who You are to a world filled with darkness.