Not a fairy tale, or myth,
But a legacy of Grace.
A history of faithfulness and patience
In the face of perpetual infidelity –
A stubborn people broken,
Shattered into pieces,
The result of brittle hearts.
We are part of the story.
Woven into our lives a scarlet cord of blood,
Links us to those who dared to hope,
To trust that there was more,
That the eternal cry –
Written into our DNA,
And pulsing through our veins –
Would be answered.
In broken trust and deception,
We fell prey to a con-artist of the highest order –
One who took what we already had,
Made us feel bad,
And sold it back to us at an extortionate price.
Suffice to say, we complied –
And lost everything.
Yet The Word who spoke it all into being,
Seeing this, before it took place,
Wove Grace into the narrative.
Pre-empting our loss,
Already the cross in His heart,
That this parting would not be permanent –
He brokered re-union
Through broken flesh and blood,
To restore us in heavenly communion.
His status surrendered –
He walked alongside us,
Proclaiming the truth of our identity as
Children of God,
Until, gripped by fear,
He had a choice –
Turn back and give up, leave us behind –
Or walk to a brutal, bloody death.
“Yet, not my will but yours!” He said.
With breath constricted,
As the agony of inflicted separation tore him apart –
So His heart stopped,
That ours and our Creator’s might once again beat in step.
His blood pours forth.
He takes my place.
And I am floored by this incomprehensible love
That sacrificed, not just his body to the pain,
But his Spirit
To the yawning distance of
Disconnection with the Father
His loss –
That by his broken body
I am made whole.
And in the shedding of his precious blood,
That scarlet cord entwines me and my God
For all eternity.
In the solemn stillness ‘twixt death
And resurrection –
A realisation of my freedom,
This perfect kingdom,
And the hope it brings –
Makes my heart sing,
As the well of gratitude bubbles up and out of me –
I will not hold back these tears of joy,
As I behold my Christ, my peace, my dignity.