by Scot Hoeksema
I don’t remember what the reason,
That prompted me that day.
Unpaid bills, a sick, sick daughter, a friend dying of cancer
I only knew I needed God,
To find some comfort, some reason in that madness.
And so I prepared to come before Him
Even though it had been so long
I hoped He would remember me and lift me from this bog.
As I paused from my distractions,
I heard a voice cry out,
“Foolish man! What makes you think
You can go before your God, your King?
Just look at you, from head to toe, you’re covered now with filth!”
I let that voice reverberate in the hallways of my mind.
And then I thought, “What just if, I put the dirty parts aside?”
I looked myself over,
With an unflinching eye
To see what I could keep
And what to leave behind.
The hand that slapped a child in anger, was the first to be let loose.
The other had held fast to change that wasn’t mine, it I could not keep.
Both feet were next,
They could not stay.
They had stomped so noisily
and planted fear in the hearts of those I love.
They certainly weren’t fit to carry me before the God above.
The legs were next, they did not stand when challenged by injustice
So too these knees which would not bend in humility.
On I went, and the pile grew,
Much to my dismay.
The arms that grabbed all they could,
The stomach that demanded more, even beyond my need.
The ears that listened to unkind words,
The eyebrows lifted in judgment
The eyes that lingered far too long on things that were not mine.
My neck was added
For it was stiff, unyielding
To others’ views and needs.
My mind had harbored impure thoughts and pride of my own making,
My head had shaken in disgust at those upon the street.
And last but not least,
A heart of stone could not its’ maker meet.
I closed my eyes and wept with sorrow,
Was there nothing clean in me?
How could I ever seek the God Most High,
A wretched man like I?
Whose words and deeds must be a stain for all eternity.
And so I let the bitter tears flow and sat there in my shame
Over time ill spent, needs not met, and deeds I dare not name.
Soon I noticed other tears
Were mingled now with mine.
But these had a different taste, Some other quality.
I scarcely dared to lift my eyes, but through the blur I saw
A face so kind, so full of love, no judgement there at all,
Just tears of joy over a sheep now found,
A child that had returned.
“How can you look upon my sin?”
In anguish did I cry.
He answered me with a voice as soothing
As a cooing dove or a mother’s lullaby
“Even if what you say is true, I would have to go to the bottom of the sea
To find these things, you know
But I see no sin, only a man that reminds me of My Son.”
And then He gently reached down
And wiped every tear from my eye.
He drew me close and held me tight
‘Til I was lost in that embrace
And heard His heart of love above my mournful cries.
“The voice you heard, that caused your sorrow, ‘twas not yours or mine,.
It was the one who hates us both and would rather see you dead.”
That day I learned in my heart
How awesome true love is,
And of mercy and of grace.
Of sacrifice beyond compare
And crimson blood that washes clean the darkest stain in me.
And when the voice of guilt comes now, its author I rebuke.
I do not fear my Father, I need not feel any shame
I do not run after Him, it’s where I’m at we meet.
Scot Hoeksema is an amazing poet, and a student at Asbury. We'll be posting more of his work soon!
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