The Great Love Story

            The day burst forth with all the complexity and magnificence of the precious moment that it was.  Nothing was hidden as the Creator let out a rush of intoxicating air from his lungs, breathing existence and life into the atoms that came together, and in their joining culminated in the very creature whose being you had longed for.  You—the Creator of all creation—reveled in man, knowing that he alone of your creations would embody your glory on walking display.  In the masterpiece of your creation and the glory you received in the walking mystery of man, you rejoiced, you rested, you were pleased.  Thus goodness was born. 

But in the background, looking on with malice, was one intent on his glory and not yours.  One who opposed the goodness that flowed from you and sought to interrupt the outpouring of your goodness to have an ounce of what you are.  Pride enters. 

The Enemy planned against the Creator, weaving sweet deception into a song, presenting it to man, causing him to stumble, and successfully breaking the heart of the Creator and leading to a broken world.  Here sin enters, taking man into the dark.  The curse was spoken, subjecting man and creation to futility—condemning man to war with himself and his neighbor and God—and capturing man with hunger and thirst for the world.  Here enters war. 

The Creator, rich with love and faithfulness to his creations, abounding in justice and jealousy, spoke to his people, watched them, and listened to their pleas as they felt the weight of the curse.  All according to the plan which the Creator knew from the moment time began, he told his creations to look with expectation as he sent the One and made the way.  In a rush of his love and faithfulness and justice and jealousy, he would bridge the gap that the Enemy had set in place with his treachery.   His creations were still trapped, but the Creator does not abandon.  The Creator wrote the word, fashioned it into human form, and caused the woman to conceive, carry, and give birth to the promise.

           

Here enters Jesus.

           

This man [who was also the Creator but still very much a creation] existed in the flesh as the Enemy pursued him, sought to paralyze him in sin, and tarnish the promise that the Creator gave to the world.  Behold the complete failure of the Enemy.  Jesus walked in the world, talked to his creations, and opposed the Enemy while experiencing the desire of human flesh to sin as he was tempted with the deceptions of the father of all lies.  Yet Jesus knew the truth, Jesus spoke the truth, and Jesus is the truth.  Truth lived a life in adoration of the Creator, never succumbing to the lies of the Enemy, and so the Enemy thinking he was clever arranged for Truth to be put to death.  But the Creator had his plan, and even before the Enemy in his mind desired to put Truth to death, the Creator had already arranged for the death to be the way.  And so at the right moment, Truth walked forward of his own freedom and submitted himself to death, knowing that he was laying down his life and accomplishing that which the creations would forever be unable themselves to do.  Truth descended into the darkness, felt the wrath and the abandonment of the Creator, took the pain and the torture and the punishment upon himself.  Three days later, Truth was raised from death to life, relinquishing the chains that bound him in Hades, and bearing the key to it all.

           

Here enters hope.

           

From the moment the curse was spoken, creation was faced with the complete and utter inability to be whole, to be one with the Creator.  The inevitable result of the entrance of sin was death—for the Creator cannot act against his own nature.  All of humanity was lost, all hope was gone; never again would there be even a chance that the creations could live according to the goodness that the Creator designed for them.  Yet, though the creations could never live rightly, the Creator knew that the life and death of Truth for all creation would make a way when there was no way.  Therefore the path was carved: Truth died, Truth rose, and hope sprung forth.  Hope wove itself through all creation as the truth spread.  Hope came, hope is here, and hope is ready to receive with open arms all who run to it in full assurance of the absolute, inexpressible, unbreakable, never ending Truth.

The Lessons from Junk

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound

that broke the chains and set me free.

I wandered in the desert land,

blind and deaf—to never see, or ever hear

your voice crying out to me.

My feet were reluctant every day as you drew near to me.

I wanted nothing more than to run away, to flee from you!

My flesh was torn [do I stay put or escape?],

but you called my name!

You know me better than anyone else,

every flaw and mistake,

yet here you are!

How marvelous, how wonderful!

Somehow, you still haven’t left me.

You’d think after all these years of telling you my varying degrees of junk,

I’d have realized that you meant everything that you said.

I don’t leave, I don’t abandon.

My grace is enough [and if you didn’t mess up, you wouldn’t understand that I never will].

I’m still working on you—I’m not finished yet.

You worry too much.  Stop.

I never change, and so far I’ve taken care of you.  So will it be forever.

I hold all the love you seek—I satisfy completely.

Your simple human mind may not see, but I’m working for your good.

[Just because life is often hard does not negate that.]

[In fact, these hard times are some of the best growing environments.]

[Don’t lie—you know it’s true.]

I am God. 

Through many dangers, toils, and snares

I have already come;

day by day, you lead me on—

this grace is my everlasting hope.

Encompassing Light

Death crawls into me,

sinking its teeth into my flesh,

ripping apart that which was never whole.

Sin sneaks in after,

slowly burns the edges of the wounds,

burns away the beating heart’s innocence.

One day.

Just one day.

Even less.  One moment.

Was all it took to destroy the possibility.

What was possible?

What wasn’t possible?

Oh, those burning wounds!

That pain, which brings the death in me such pleasure.

The death smells of rot.

Death hates the light.

Death likes the dark.

[for death is made manifest only in the dark]

Death talks to me.

Death loves me.

I am death.

One more light than I exists.

I hate him.

Really.

He is light,

and his light causes me to vanish.

I spiral downwards.

But here it is.

In the depths I have found it.

A hole.  A crevice.

 

Barely large enough for a needle to penetrate.

Irrelevant.

It is there.

[unoccupied, so I move in]

The temperature rises threateningly,

hinting light.

But it never reaches.

So I live.

I am great, unconquerable.

Untouchable.

[light walks in]

So confused.

I am not light, I am death!

And I will prove it.

But the light is different.

The fire from the light does not burn.

It turns my wounds into scars.

No! I will break them open.

The light will not diminish me.

I am death.

I am light. 

[how did this happen?]

I like it. It’s warm. 

I am death.

Redeemed.

My lips pour forth praise.

I am death raised to life.

Sin purified and made new.

Death creeps in me,

but the one in me is greater than death.