Redemption Restitution Restoration

I've been thinking about this a lot recently. Justice. Mercy. The awe-full, awe inspiring heart of God. I want to know more of that mystery. I want to be moved by what is holy. I want to remember that grace comes from love, but also from sacrifice. I want to remember the mercy seat. I don't want to take any of this for granted.

After a conversation with a good friend and at the beginning of a new Bible study I'm getting ready to look in to, I remembered a poem I wrote a few years ago when I was able to participate in the study of Isaiah with Bible Study Fellowship. Those words, shared here, are part of what I want to hold on to. Inspired by the study of Isaiah and Job 19:25.

A cry echoes across the dark expanse.
The heart of the universe is torn apart.
God in heaven looking down towards earth
is besieged with an army of loss –
first led by the bright morning star;
followed too soon by terra's first child.
All howling in prideful abandon, "I will!"
Forgetting the sanctuary of "Thy will."

And now …
My sin.
My pride.
My transgressions –
have torn a hole in the heart of God.

What do I know in my insignificance?
My thoughtlessness –
that tosses around words and ideas
like lie, cheat, and steal.
On this plane –
on the page –
pale in context next to ominous transgressions
like murder, death, kill.
What do I know in my insignificance?
On heaven's plane –
each lapse counts this as the same:
it fails to meet the match of heaven's perfection.

Mercy perfected;
balanced by justice perfected,
demands an answer.
Demands a right-setting restitution.
Demands a sacrifice.

God in heaven looking down towards earth
sees into the holy of holies;
sees his measure unbroken.
A law that cannot change.
A law that will not change.
Sees the mercy seat lying barren and dry.

A cry echoes across the universe.
My transgressions
have torn a hole in the heart of God.

Darkness falls.
Seraphim burn and turn their eyes away.
The host of heaven holds its breath
and shudders at the wrath of God.

Breathe

A light shines in the darkness
spilling like liquid fire in the holy of holies.
How can I ever know the cost of his blood
as he hung wrapped in my transgressions on the cross?
The heart of God reached down to save me;
blotting out everything I am not
with the awesome power of saving love.
The mercy seat is barren no more.

Pause

Any rod that comes to stripe my back
strikes first
my Jesus Christ
who spread himself
as a mantle over me.

Mercy perfected;
balanced by justice perfected
demands an answer.
He is my answer.

Before time knew the memory of my failure –
the heart of God said yes for me
and healed the wound.


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