Cowering in fear, he hid from the presence of God.
Opened eyes meant shame and confusion, condemnation and terror.
He no longer craved that holy presence,
Walking in fellowship in the cool of the night,
But fled, hiding in the shadows of dusk.
Since that first sin, condemnation has crippled us:
The sneering voices, the mocking ridicule,
Telling us God can’t possibly care for wretches like us,
Eroding our confidence like the waves pounding on the rocks,
Doubt penetrating our DNA
Until we are left, battered, on the solitary sea shore of abandonment and alienation.
Another man came with a fire in his eyes,
Urging repentance, a change in lifestyle,
A messenger in the spirit of Elijah, pointing to a Messiah come to bring hope.
This Messiah, though, was a Lamb as well as a Lion,
And with a jolt of unexpected recognition,
We see conviction, not condemnation.
A man so pure and righteous,
We are both repelled and drawn nigh at one and the same time.
Conviction pierces, lances, exposes
The secret places of our hearts,
But it draws us in to a place, long forgotten,
Of forgiveness, healing, acceptance, restoration.
Conviction does not condemn.
As we humble ourselves before this Merciful One,
We are touched by grace and truth,
And welcomed in with love.
Come, with confidence,
Run, with boldness, into the arms of the One who won’t let go,
Approach with no trace of apprehension or fear.
For this Miracle Man brings salvation, not condemnation.
He restores and does not reject.
He welcomes and does not drive us away.
Come now with confidence before the throne of God,
For He came to the lowliness of the stable,
Understanding rejection and indifference,
But always ready to welcome you in.
