Monday, August 24, 2020

Blue Collar

"He was a refugee from Egypt who became a blue-collar worker from a backwater town..." - Skye Jethani

So...in the places in your mind where hope rests, 
where beautiful scars are just now finding strength to speak...

Who is the Christ that you see?

Are his hands dirty, dry and rough, 
like someone who had spent a great amount of time at a carpenter's bench.

Is his hair coiffed and perfect...
Or is it matted and tangled from sleeping in a field,
                                                        Or amidst an orchard of fig trees.

Is the tunic he wears bright and shiny white...
                     or is it stained, with sweat, tears...or just the sediment of the day.

Are his sandals weathered... 
Does his face show the pain of contemplation, empathy and compassion... 
Do his eyes see into yours... 
                with a gaze that somehow brings peace AND challenge...         
While a forgiveness that you feel deep in your gut; 
rises to your heart...
              And your eyes well; your mouth curves into a smile,
                           finally unsullied by regret that hung on you like 
cobwebs until...HE SPOKE FREEDOM INTO YOU.

I don't care who it is that you see when you hear the name, 
                                     "Jesus"
except that... 
         He would be someone you don't just revere, or hold in awe.  
                    (Though He is deserving of that also)
                 But my prayer, 
                   my hope... 
Is that He would be someone you can see yourself run to...
                             with abandon...
                                 without fear, or hesitation
                                    or need to prepare yourself, fix your make-up, 
                                      adjust your attire.

Because He couldn't care less about the shell of who you are
       HE JUST WANTS YOUR HEART TO MEET HIS AND THEN LIVE THERE...

                                                  FOREVER.






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