Dressed pretty with bandages that wrap my wounds and dead and broken dreams,
People dread to unwrap these bandages fearing the mess and the unpleasant stench,
They mourn the death and convinced its all over,
Where no one else can see or can reach.
Deep cried unto deep,
A cry for life.
Jesus you visit me while everyone else said its too late,
You call me by my name,
Your words breathe life into this dead being,
You unwrapped the messy and stinking wounds that none want to catch a glimpse of,
You are the balm that healed my brokenness,
You alone loved me and cared to rescue me from my grave clothes,
Your love covered the multitude of death, sin and brokenness
You clothe me with a garment of praise
Your love is true life!
In the beginning, before anything, when there was nothing— You were. Before time, Your Spirit hovered, hovering over the void, over empty space. Then You spoke— O, You spoke and said, “Let there be light,” and piercing the darkness, light came. Such was the world without You; such is the landscape of our hearts— empty, without form, and void. It was nothing. But You spoke again: “Let there be light.” This time, the Word that existed in the beginning became flesh— the Word incarnate: Jesus, the true light for all, Immanuel, God with us. He dwelt among us. He became like us yet without sin. He became curse for us, and was pierced for our sin. Yet we did not recognize Him. Searching for Him in the law, we missed Him. But the law was fulfilled through His perfect love and sacrifice— and still, we did not comprehend. We thought He deserved it. He sees all our thoughts, the motives of our hearts— dark, devoid of love, formless without Christ, nothing but self. Yet He died and took our ...
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