The reality of the cross is brutal, but it is freeing. I have grieved far too long that Jesus had to die without gratefully accepting that he did—and that it is truly enough. Enough to really cover all my sin, to redeem me, to free me. It’s like all the truth I’ve heard and known for so long is suddenly not just sinking in, but taking root and sprouting up and it’s wonderful. I’m stunned at the gift of love and forgiveness. I’m at the foot of the cross in awe that Jesus has given all and I just need to reach out and take it—with humility and hope and joy. It makes death and eternity a whole lot less scary—well, actually it makes me long for heaven more…it makes me more eager to see my Savior’s face—to throw my arms around his neck and sob out, “Thank you,” to shout with all the angels and sing with all the people and know the King without all the barriers of flesh and sin, to love and be loved more completely.
Oh, God, don’t let me leave here the same. Continue stripping down my sin, my strongholds, all the walls and defenses. Continue letting your grace and mercy have their effect in my heart and my mind. Continue helping me to renew my heart and mind. Continue helping me accept the gift—you and all you are and all you’ve done and still do. And thank you—thank you, thank you, thank you.
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One night a man was crying, "Allah! Allah!"
His lips grew sweet with the praising,
until a cynic said, "So!
I have heard you calling out,
but have you ever gotten any response?"
The man had no answer to that.
He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.
He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,
in a thick, green foliage.
"Why did you stop praising?"
"Because I’ve never heard anything back."
"This longing you express
is the return message."
The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.
Your pure sadness that wants help
is the secret cup.
Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.
that whining is the connection.
There are love-dogs
no one knows the names of -
Give your life to be one of them.
J.R.
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