Sometimes I wish I could just throw a postscript on something after I've been trying to live it out for a few weeks. So here ya go. This is a postscript to my Hands open, Hands empty entry from about a month ago.
I just keep thinking about Jesus.
You see, He gave His hands up to be opened and emptied...
And then, they were spread wide.
And then, they were pierced.
And then, the Love that filled them was salty, thick and red.
He bled His love out through hands and feet.
Sometimes that is the kind of Love that fills our hands. The raw and bleeding kind.
Sometimes we wish that God would speak to us as a teddy bear, rather than a lion.
And sometimes we just sit there like Job and hear the words, "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?"
I just keep thinking about Jesus.
Jesus in the garden, "Not my will, but yours."
Jesus asking Peter, "Do you Love me?"
Jesus, hands open and empty, with holes in them for eternity, as the angels sing "Holy, Holy, Holy."
I think that He wants us to know Him, to know this kind of Love. This is the Love that fills as it pours through us. It takes all the ragged and bleeding parts of us and brings us back where we belong. He stands there, hands spread wide and waiting.
I just keep thinking about Jesus.
You see, He gave His hands up to be opened and emptied...
And then, they were spread wide.
And then, they were pierced.
And then, the Love that filled them was salty, thick and red.
He bled His love out through hands and feet.
Sometimes that is the kind of Love that fills our hands. The raw and bleeding kind.
Sometimes we wish that God would speak to us as a teddy bear, rather than a lion.
And sometimes we just sit there like Job and hear the words, "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?"
I just keep thinking about Jesus.
Jesus in the garden, "Not my will, but yours."
Jesus asking Peter, "Do you Love me?"
Jesus, hands open and empty, with holes in them for eternity, as the angels sing "Holy, Holy, Holy."
I think that He wants us to know Him, to know this kind of Love. This is the Love that fills as it pours through us. It takes all the ragged and bleeding parts of us and brings us back where we belong. He stands there, hands spread wide and waiting.
Comments
Post a Comment