I guess we all have a story to tell. All brought up from different backgrounds with different parents, or some, no parents at all.
We all have secrets and we all have dreams. We all desire something. Our abandoned hearts are all searching for love, security and acceptance. I found mine. At the cross of my murdered saviour. It's hard to explain in words what I felt, I guess it was the realisation that love is more than just a feeling, it screams louder than any sound, but anyway I will attempt to show you, and tell you of the love I found.
Darkness//
I realise that darkness is so profound. It's hard to feel found when there is just no light around. Just black. Like treacle, uncomfortable and sticky but yet we choose it. No way out, like a man trapped on the third floor of a building that's on fire. What choice does he have but to jump? Alarms can only warn you of what toil awaits. Pain replaced by numbness and numbness quickly fades into nothing. Nothing at all.
Believe me this isn't what I thought life would be, when I was 8 years old and playing football in my garden dreaming of taking on the world. I felt invincible. How childish. I felt so full of life. How challenging.
What happens to us? This reality seems quite uncomfortable to give time to right now. Scars on skin tell stories of trial and pain and yet nothing even in the darkest of moments ever seems to satisfy or shout loud enough to be heard. No release could possibly come quick enough or so it would seem.
How many times did I think my cry out for help fell on deaf ears. Those walls of insecurity I built around a house which was home only to misery and grief. Like two ugly sisters they laboured and patrolled the inners of my mind and immersed my heart with such overwhelming sadness.
So much hurt thrown, so much hurt given that not even the optimists ever predicted that justice would be received. Yet what is justice?
Un forgiveness strangles politely but strongly round the neck of any soul that will allow its grasp. I have let it take its hold on me one too many times. Bitterness builds up like a taunted animal ready to avenge those who pay to see it perform. The circus seems quite an apt explanation for the talent of my emotions. Of course no one cares enough to applaud which is probably a good thing really, after reflection takes its hold.
Caught up in cycles of addiction and self affliction and confrontation and family struggles that are so deep I didn't think anyone would ever explore that ocean. So many shipwrecks and lost souls were taken and yet it appeared none were ever given back. It's easy to be absorbed by it all, to let it wash over you like a bath of poison, itching at your core and immersing your most private of thoughts. You are marked with lies such as 'this is your lot in life'. 'You will never get better'. 'You will never change'. 'This is as good as it will get' 'give up now' 'failure' 'ugly' 'hated' 'thief' 'rejected' 'useless' 'mistake' 'second choice' 'terminal' 'as good as dead' 'problem child'.
No More//
It was then I cried out 'NO MORE'.
No more would I live like a bird with clipped wings. No longer would i live in a cage of self pity and circumstantial ill fated choices. No longer would I live in the shadows, sailing at half mast, swinging way below par. I was born to FLY.
Sat all on my own in that moment. My heart was literally about to explode and shatter into a thousand pieces. Like that glass vase I accidentally knocked over in that cheap shopping centre place that closed down soon after. I often wondered if I played my part? Probably.
The battle in my head was exceptional. It was crazy. I was a mess. It was as if I looked up and saw the sun, shining through the clouds. You know, when you look out and swear it was raining before when You last looked out.
"What's happening to me?" I panicked. I found myself overcome with such joy when I realised that the sun had always been shining, I just had never seen the clouds part. It's crazy how a moment can break the hold of a life time. That's all Jesus needs though. A moment. How often we struggle to find one though. Lists and excuses run down the clock.
In the midst of my trial. Out of the desperation that consumed me I felt alive. Like a joy had run into my body and covered every inch. I felt safe, I felt satisfied. Like every moment I had searched had pointed to this. Him. Jesus. As if he himself was holding on to me. As if the scales had been removed from my eyes. As if darkness had been lifted to show his beauty. I saw myself differently in that moment, something I would learn would take a while to really grasp. Just like my view of others.
My heart so full of peace I can't ever explain fully or comprehend what Jesus did to me in that moment. It's crazy. I heard someone say once there is a difference between living and being alive. I realise that now.
The Cross//
I looked to the cross. Its relevance in my life filled my heart with thankfulness.
The realisation that the abuse suffered was rightly my punishment shot gratitude into my inner core.
Tears ran down my face when I thought of his beating, the suffering, the blood. The lashings, the spitting, the hidings, the mocking, the torture and the pain. To think he did that all for me, for you. His face unrecognisable, his body indescribable.
This moment, this misery, this murder has changed my life forever. What scandal, that he should die so I may live.
At the Cross of Christ I realise that death has no hold on me. That the curtain was torn, that the gap was bridged. He defeated the enemy.
I understand that it was God's final plan. No sin and shame and scorn would ever hold the Fathers hand.
At the Cross of Christ I see that love shouts louder than my pain. And that forgiveness hung upon a tree, the Son of God, a servant was given up for me. It was only there the Saviour was forsaken but death met its final vengeance and the gates of hell were shaken.
At the Cross of Christ my chains were taken by my Saviour. That I might live a life of freedom that shouts louder for my Maker. My selfishness, my sin, my addiction and my grief. Were nailed to that cross as He hung between two thieves.
At the Cross of Christ what gratitude does feel my heart and sorrow i do cry. As He hung his head and it was done beneath that blackened sky.
Oh how death must have thought thought that it had won. That God had failed as Jesus died and that sin had overcome.
The Tomb//
But death itself could not hold Him down. As he rose 3 days later. The power of darkness broken by Jesus Who was greater.
The empty tomb, the scenes I guess I can't describe. But such praise, such joy, such thankfulness when they found He was alive.
"O, death where is your glory. O death where is your sting?"
Such power in His name. Behold He lives and still changes lives the resurrection King.
His majesty and grace will forever reign, what truth has touched my heart, I will never be the same.
What Parker pen, notepad and endless timescale could ever quantity such power. He is my strength, my fortress, and rock, my hope and my strong tower.
His mercy is as boundless as the sky above, spread open like His arms which receive us with His love.
What power is held in His name, the one above all things, the cry of my heart is all for Him and will forever sing.
All of heaven adores Him.
Behold our risen King.
Forever He will be glorified. Forever He will satisfy.
He is so mighty and He saves. Deserving of all glory and of the highest praise.
You have to respond to the cry of the cross. It screams love and security, it paid the cost. It rings out bells aloud that you are forgiven. You are free. Set apart. Righteous given. The chains that held you He took as his scorn, upon that tree, where He was made to wear a crown of thorns.
You have to respond to the empty tomb. That death itself was beaten by His wounds. He overcame the enemy, He rules and reigns so endlessly. No coffin for His body, no grave stone with a date. He's risen from the dead, His splendour is magnificent. His name is o so great.
He rose again so that He may live within our hearts. That they would tell of His love and freedom through each and every part. That we may raise the level of living and for justice take a stand, to pursue His mighty presence and live out His perfect plan.
He found us, like a Father, orphans on our own. Like a farmer who has planted seed, in us it has been sown.
Like a groom looking for a bride amongst the filth of humanity, he lifted us out, hand picked us all for all the world to see.
There is nothing else to get. No price or human gain. It starts and ends with Jesus who took upon our pain.
Such magnificence and beauty, wisdom and such wonder. All creation bows to Him, the sky and all its thunder.
We need nor want for anything now that we've been awaken. Such thankfulness and praise to Him to which all our sin was taken.
The End//
I guess we all have a story to tell. All brought up from different backgrounds with different parents, or some, no parents at all. I've realised our past may shout loud, and our pain may hold us down, but believe me I know what it's like to be set free. I no longer want my ship to sail these rough old seas without knowing my captain. I no longer want to play life as a lottery, and hope for better luck next time. I no longer want to strive myself to find what only he can give.
On my worst day I will praise him. On my best day I will praise him.
This is my story. Such challenge and change. I know in my heart I can never ever be the same. My heart is ablaze, it's only him I pursue.
But anyway, I will leave you with this statement...
"He died. To know you."
