A Perfect Ruin

You have made me. You have moved my soul and pieced my mind and my heart back together. Your nail-pierced hands have sculpted me, molded me and comforted me. Your love has power, a power that does not even exist in dreams. You are beautiful, a shining light that covers the canvas of the winter sky. That melts the seasons into one being.

Calvary is dead. And you are alive, More alive than ever. The perfect ruin of the cross has built an everlasting bond that cannot be broken. A shelter that cannot fall. A kingdom of forgiven, repented liars and thieves. Your hands built the scroll of the sky, the wonders of the universe, the depths of the mysterious sea. And yet you called me.

Chasing Shadows

I’m there waiting in an invisible room with no walls. The floor is my reality, my safety net. A least for now as it keeps my feet touching something that feels safe. Safe for now. I can’t get out. I can’t see any windows or doors. I’m stuck here, trying to tell myself I don’t wonder what will happen to me when I die. Telling myself that I don’t fear death. The unknown. I tremble at the possibility of change, shudder at the invasion of something else coming for me but what?

I’m chasing shadows that are not real. They were never real. They are brief images of emptiness and nothingness that try to lead me to death. They dance around in front and behind me as I see their dark reflections on the walls. But then a light. A burning furnace of glory, majesty and awe comes seeping in and suddenly engulfs the room in a burst of light.

Jesus.

I now realize. I have a home, a father, a place where I am meant to be. And it’s not here. The Shadows disappear.

He has found me…