Hi. It’s me…

I sit here in my thoughts,
thinking about all I have been through.
No ones fault but by my own choices.
I have been blind, in sin by deed, by choice.
My inherited wretchedness ran rampant, untamed.
Choosing to live as if I was my own,
I forgot what I knew I knew…
That I was the Child of a King.
Twice bought.
By creation and redemption.
Oh, how I chose to forget.
That my Father owned riches unnumbered.
While I lived, seemingly content with my spiritually bankrupt life, I neglected all that was given for me on Calvary.
Golgotha.
Thoughts bring me back to my knees.

Hi.
It’s me again [sigh]
Where do I even begin to explain my mess.
It’s a mess, but it’s cleaner than the last one.
I’m trying out this whole faith thing; although I must say, walking like a blind man isn’t always easy.
I know every good and perfect gift is from You but bear with me;
I’m still learning to follow You through my valleys of shame, defeat and death;
Laced with dry skulls and disintegrating bones.
Many have walked this path; the bone trail is evidence.
They failed… why?
Did they not hearken to Your voice, ending up in a path too rugged for them to tread?
Is that why their bodies gave up, preferred a slow painful death in sin
And have the hyenas of hell tear and pick at their remains?
Or was it because they found doubt was easier to embrace than to believe;
Believe in the redemptive blood of Your Son,
Because they grew up knowing it was fiction and the idea of a all-knowing God
Floating in the air seemed a little too far-fetched.

I’ll admit it;
It is hard to comprehend love that would sacrifice itself to saved the one it loved,
Even before the beloved knew and even understood the meaning of love…
Let alone its depth.

I am not back because I understand the above either.
But to me, the more unbelievable it seems, the more I want to believe;
Because the idea of Someone loving me to death warms the cold trenches of my heart
And makes me yearn to sit with Him one day.
Touch His face and feel His pierced hands.
Have Him tell me the story once again,
The story I have heard oh so many times, retold by the Apostles;
Of how He was sold by His own;
How He was able to not consume all those who persecuted, spit and insulted Him;
But mostly, how He felt when His father had to turn His back on Him
While He was tormented by the weight of the sins of the worlds past and the worlds to come;
How much pain He felt, as His side was pierced and the Water of Life flowed to replenish the dead earth
To show the new era of abundant life that had finally come!

But most of all, I want to hear Him tell me how His love for me was the reason He put back the cut ear.
How His foreknowledge of my struggles to come were the reason He carried the cross that would bear His dying body.
How He knew that today, I would be struggling with unbelief and if He didn’t make it to Golgotha,
The demons that tormented me would win.
But He did it all for me.
Because to Him, living without redeeming me was as good as dying an endless death.
So taking upon Himself the yoke of sin and becoming the curse, hanging on a tree,
He chose to much rather die and risk not rising again than living and have me die to never rise again.
But there will be no more crying in Heaven,
I imagine a song of praise erupt from the hollows of my soul;
Of the great price that was paid,
For a broken jar of clay.

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One thought on “Broken Jar of Clay

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