in reckless abandon

Here I am.

Carrying in my arms the broken shards of things I loved and fell apart. The sharp edges have torn my arms and the wounds are a tender shade of scarlet, and I know that scarlet is a colour fit for a King. I have no right to bear these scars, but I have nowhere else to turn.

I pass the place where old dreams are buried and where the air hangs heavy with ghosts of the past clinging to me in the thick mist–

I will walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

and fear no evil, for You are with me.

My heart is shaking as I look for You through the fog, afraid to find Your sorrowful eyes but longing to see You. I am too frail and too weak, and this journey is too long and painful, Lord–this I know all too well.

And as the trail tapers off into a large field, I find myself left with nothing but my broken pieces and my tears and the dirt beneath me. Through the ebbing fog, I see the shadow of an altar.

And blindly, I stumble towards it, heart heavy with tears and with a million words I do not know how to say. The broken shards have begun to shred my bloodied skin again, but this time the pain is heavier and sharper, as if they somehow knew I was trying to let them go. Broken shards of a self-righteous life I cannot let go of; I know that with every tear of my skin I am getting weaker.

A familiar figure cuts through the thick fog, but I cannot move. I can only sit and wait as silent cries shake my body, desperate to be saved from myself. There are moments you never forget, and as He gazed down upon me, with so much sorrow and beauty and compassion piercing through to my soul, I tasted Love for the first time.

O! The sweetness of His gaze and warmth of Love! Nothing I had been promised in my old life even came close. It seemed like centuries ago when I had revelled and made my living off the self-absorbed "love" the world served in sickening excess.

And in reckless abandon, He reached out to me, despite the heavy stench of dried blood and flaking mud around me, to take everything, the pain and the tears and the remnants of my former self, even as they tore His beautiful body. Blood flowed richly and freely and a cry of pain and aguish left His lips. I cowered, but He did not draw back until He had taken every sliver of my sin and laid them on the altar beside Himself. The ultimate sacrifice, the holy & the perfect Lamb, to save me from destroying myself.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound! 

That saved a wretch like me.

/postscript/

I really, truly try to love Him in my own twisted human, carnal way, but I cannot do it. I cannot love Him enough to bend my own stubborn, proud heart to His will. I cannot love Him enough to fill my mind with His words. I cannot love Him enough to kill my own sinful habits that chain me to my flesh.

And though my heart cries in bondage, it steadily refuses to budge. The irony never fails to amaze me and fill me with such despair.


But His Love is too great—so great that He sent His Son down to die on the cross to save my small, pitiful heart bent on destroying myself. Love so great that He turned away from His only begotten Son when my sins were laid on Him. O Lord! Enlarge my heart I pray. I do not deserve Your love, that I know, but neither do You deserve my pale, weak heart that very often beats for something else.

And I come back again to the beginning—disappointment is a harsh term. I try not to think about it so much, but if I am disappointed with how often my wandering heart strays, to think of the disappointment He has in my unfaithfulness. My heart trembles at the grace that has been lavished on me, and marvels at His faithfulness, steady throughout the generations.

/

And with that I end, a sinner that has been liberated from the snares of sin but who often forgets the costliness of the free gift she has received. Perhaps this is but a pitiful attempt at reminding herself of how undeserving she is of His love and how willing He is to pursue her wandering heart, but isn't this the beauty in the story of redemption? And this weary soul can only say hallelujah. All glory be given to the One who saves.

/

This post has been perhaps the most painful and important one I've written yet. It's taken me months and months (close to half a year, or more) to finally conclude this and get the words and the story right and I know I'm a week late for Easter Sunday, but I thought I might share this anyways (hurhur). And isn't it only right that I have a very long postscript to be attached to this post? HAHAHA. You can take it as my attempt to apologise and make up for the lack of content on this space (hehe), but really, every word I say is straight from my heart. I've said this one too many times, but thank you, thank you, thank you for being here.