disgrace

In the din of the world’s darkness we whisper Save us. And you answer Wait. Our enemies surround with sword and stones our homes of clay. Our clothes are rent by the claws of man and our bodies wracked by the poison of tongues. The tempest batters our harvest leaving us mud for a feast. And our light goes out. Wait.

Disgrace upon disgrace.

The awaited help? Just like us. Born in blood and tears. Our prince a pauper. We need might and you give us squalor. The light of the world bound to failing frail flesh. The very word of creation silenced by a baby’s tongue. A savior unsaved. Our lion a lamb. When he walks it is in trails of dust and disdain. Our mighty warrior hung by greed upon death’s tree. Dying in blood and tears. Just like us.

Disgrace upon grace.

But the death of life sings a singular note. It pierces our cacophony. And salvation the song we could never compose. Our ransom paid in the flesh of light. The extinguish sparks fire. Igniting us as kindling but not consuming. And we surge an ocean of light. His light. To shore unknown. To height unfathomed. We burn with a life not ours. We sing a song not our own. We whisper Save us. And you answer I am.

Grace upon disgrace.

“The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.”