Radical Grace

*inspired by the Sunday morning message revolving around the story in John 8, with the woman caught in adultery*

Radical Grace

She's caught, caught up in the act of

Faithlessness and

She knows, she knows why they've

Busted down her bedroom doors.

She cries as they drag her by the hair

So she can't escape the stares

Of the pressing crowds of people.

They've gathered up their stones...she cries out.

"I've fallen far from the glory of God,

And like it or not, I'm here now.

Is there no way for me out of this place?
Is there no such thing as radical grace?"

They're caught, caught up in their foolish zeal

Trying to decide what's real

Too blind to see the light before their eyes.

They watch as the Teacher makes them wait

Hungry to decide her fate

Pestering Him with spiteful hate.

They grip their stones and cry out

"She's fallen far from the glory of God.

And like it or not, You're calling the shots.

There is no way for You out of this place.

There's no such thing as radical grace."

He bends down to the ground

Keen to the shaking sound

Of her breathing

Of their unbelieving hearts

"Let him among you who

Is sinless be the first to

Condemn her...can you condemn her?"

And they all cast down their stones...

I'm caught, caught up hiding in the wings

Until He stands and looks at me

"Have none of them condemned you now?"

I cry as He takes me by the hand

I can only shake my head.

He holds me as I tremble.

And whispers, "You may feel far from the glory of God

But like it or not, I'm here with you now.

I AM the Way for you out of this place.

I AM the source of that radical grace.

I AM.

Radical grace, I am The Way to radical grace.

what it looks like in my head sometimes

she’s gagged and she’s bound and everything hurts

trying to believe it won’t keep getting worse

with the moments that pass and the days that grow longer

making her wish she could simply be stronger

but she swallows the pain as she puffs out her cheeks

for the clock on the wall has been frozen for weeks

but it makes little difference in the place where she stays

to the demons who taunt her and won’t go away

and the dreams that she dreamed and the wishes she’s  wished

have been boiled and reduced to just wanting to fix

all the misunderstandings inside of her head

that all scream and all whisper she’s better off dead.

there’s a flower that’s blooming by the window sill

she admires in moments where she can be still

and she hopes that the summer will let the bloom thrive

and she prays that the two of them both can survive

through the bite of the winter that chaps at her skin

while she wonders how she found this mess that she’s in

for the problems are stupid, the struggles naive

and it seems not to matter she’s fighting to breathe

and the ones who would love her remain at a loss

that she trembles in silence, no matter the cost

they’ll never believe that it’s for their own good

this feeling inside – she’d spare them if she could.

the blouse that she’s wearing is covered in stains

from the places she’s bleeding to get through the pain

but the stitches and sutures hold only so far

and no matter the artwork, there’ll still be a scar

to detract from the value that she’s never had

she’d be fine if the pain didn’t hurt her so bad

so she turns to the Bible in hopes that a look

will reveal some great mystery there in the book

but the words bleed together, the lines are immense

and the concept within it just doesn’t make sense

so she rips through the pages in search for her own

fearing none of it matters – she wants to go home

there’s gotta be something she’s supposed to do first

but she’s gagged and she’s bound, and everything hurts.

Words

Words

Scribbled on a page

Hastily

Breathlessly

Desperately…

Descriptors of someone’s innermost longings

Dreams his heart dares express only

In the quiet shadows of evening

When all other souls are asleep.

Heart aching for heart

Flesh aching for flesh

Soul pining for soul.

Words

Leaping from the very page in which they’ve been etched

To pierce through the skin

In the center of my chest

And seep into my heart
Like a powerful drug.

Medicine or poison?

I cannot decide.

Who can know the effect one’s words might have

Once they’ve left the page

To meet the eye

And affect the mind

And break the heart?

Who knew the sound?

The silent sound this heart would make

When the perfect words infiltrated

And took over everything?

Such martial law was never meant to exist inside one’s soul

The very words which draw me in

Draw me closer

Are the very words that have me instinctually backing away

Breaking contact

Severing ties

Because such words were never meant for me.

They weren’t designed to invade my heart…

No…they were never meant for me.

What was I then?

What have I always been?

An innocent bystander to the battles you fight with yourself

A casualty of the war waging within you

And without me.

A war captured within the framework of your words

Those words which illustrate

The very darkness you retreat to

The very madness which engulfs you

And yet does not overtake you.

The verge on which you teeter – maintaining such a baffling balance

Between real and unreal

Sane and insane

Dark and light.

Those words you ascribe to the light you search for

The only light that can fill the empty spaces

That she left

That they all left

The empty spaces nobody deserves – least of all you…

You know the light so intimately

That you describe the warmth of its beam the instant

It touches my face.

And as you penned the shape and temperature and texture of

That single tear of joy

It was there – sliding down my cheek.

Words too beautiful

Too potent

To exist at all

Are the words that slice like a blade

Because they are not mine to live up to.

They are not mine to achieve.

They are not mine.

And they never needed to be – they were just too beautiful to go untouched

And I, like a child, reach out to touch what I know I shouldn’t

What I know is forbidden to me

Like the apple in the garden…

Just one touch, just to see what it might feel like

To have such beautiful words ascribed to me.

And now here I sit

Scribbling the words

Hastily

Breathlessly

Desperately…

And I wonder if these words should ever pierce another’s skin

And seep into someone else’s heart –

– The sweetest poison –

As such words have into mine.

Dichotomy

Too big to be among the least of these...
Yet too small for you to notice me...
The water is too shallow to drown in, no...
Yet just deep enough that I can't stand.
Not lonely enough to be able to ask for your hand
But just enough so that it hurts like hell. 

And people die when they drive down
The middle of the road
Not quite on either side
Just crashed into the median
Not quite going up in smoke
Yet somehow fully engulfed and it's
Too little
Too late
Yet somehow too much too soon and I hate
This horrible
Beautiful
Dichotomy.

Like that moment that's not quite day
But no longer night
It's that imaginary shade of gray
Between the black and white and it's
Not something wrong but at the same time
We all know it isn't right.
Oh, God save all of us -

Cause it feels like we might die
Standing in the middle of the road
Not quite on either side
Just lying on the median
We're not going up in smoke
And yet we're fully engulfed
And it's just
Too little
Too late
Too much too soon
And I hate
This terrible
Wonderful
Horrible
Beautiful

Dichotomy that stands between
My flesh and blood
And your light and your Son
It's where the rule book meets
The aching heart inside of me
That can't quite seem to see how I won't

Die driving down the middle of the road
Not quite on either side
Just bleeding on the median and I am
Not going up in smoke
I'm simply fully engulfed
Is it just too little too late?
Too much too soon?
Oh God I hate
This terrible
Beautiful
Dichotomy.

Tears

There was not but space and sky

You spread Your arms and You declared:

“Let there be light.”

The skies obeyed,

Both night and day

The earth and waters moved and took Your breath away.

And as You stood and saw that it was good

Did You cry the first satisfied

Tears?

You made the man

And from his rib

You fashioned her that would become the best of him.

And as they lay, lost inside each other’s gaze,

From their eyes overwhelmed and glorified

Tears.

They shrank beneath

The cursed leaves

Hiding from what they both knew that You could see.

They’d traded faith

For lust and hate

And found themselves accursed,

Forbidden from Your gates.

And on Your face

As You watched them walk away

Heaven’s first brokenhearted

Tears.

As time continues centuries had fallen underneath your sovereign gaze

You watched us fail You, curse You, Hate you

While You walked beside us all the way.

If the tears we’d shed together could be kept inside a jar

Would the oceans overflow until the water touched the stars?

Tears of joy

Tears of relief

Tears of turmoil

Tears of peace

Tears for loss

Tears for pain

Tears we cry when we’ve regained

Tears of God

Tears of men

Tears when we leave and find You once again.

Tears…

When You were nailed

To a broken tree

How many tears were shed when You’d forgiven me?

You saw my sin

And took me still

You said “I’ve loved You always,

And I always will.”

And on my face

As I bend beneath Your grace

A sinner’s redeemed and grateful

Tears.

Ooh….

And when we stand

Before Your throne

And hear Your whispered words,

“Beloved, welcome home.”

…Tears….

…Tears.

Tears.