Agape

If you dare to squint the eyes of your heart to see the good in people, you may get blinded by the twisted, the broken, the parched, the frayed, razor edges of their darkest garbage thrown at you by the wind of their God empowered will. The blood of the Healer is a theory unrealized beyond our mind when it’s chosen a path from which culture won’t allow you to recover. We stumble and fall, we fall hard and far, and we are lost.

Lying broken and bent on the canyon floor of our fallenness, the walls of the chasm bearing down on us, taunting us to climb with limbs shattered and jutting from gaping wounds of guilt and shame. Jesus’ words echo down the walls and grace comes like the rain and the sun together conspire to cure the cold and the thirst that sin has left us with. When we did it right we hated the Healer who resurrected our scapegoats. We tore into Him with more than words. When we did it wrong we found no other friend than the one hanging next to us on the cross. 

I have been the common thief hanging in a state of guilt next to sinless perfection. I catch His eyes and I know, Jesus loves me. Jesus doesn’t have to squint His eyes to see goodness in me. It’s all He sees. He put it there. And now I know that I’m not meant to remain in this state. Redemption and resurrection conspire to restore and regenerate until we are lifted beyond even where you were to heights above the clouds where shadows of darkness, secrets, and lies have nothing more to hide behind. Born in flight upon eagles wings, the Son of righteousness carries you in healing into a resurrected abundance with Him. And there you are at rest in the agape of the Father forevermore.