I see Jesus

Incomprehensible conception. You CREATED.

Mystifying design of love.

God, I look and I see your awesome extravagance in bursts of sunset painted across the sky.

I breathe in the sweet scent of fresh renewal that comes following the spring rain.

I taste and I savor the explosion of a multitude of flavors.

God, I listen and I hear joyous, medicinal laughter bubbling up from young children’s voices.

I touch and I feel deep comfort in the embrace of a loved one.

And I know that you are God. And I know that you are good.

In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. (Psalm 102:25)

But God, my eyes are not blind, they are raped by slavery and injustice.

The putrid stench of poverty lies decaying in our streets.

Bitter battles rip and tear and destroy nations, families, marriages.

The agonizing cries of children resonate in our cities, our schools, our homes, our churches: lost, damaged, abused.

Empty arms long to be held, to be loved, to be comforted, to be protected: cherished.

And I can not help but ask, where are you God? where IS your good?

They are there: your hands, my hands, our hands

Offering food to the hungry,

Drilling wells for the thirsty

Providing clothes to the exposed,

They are building homes for the destitute

Stitching the wounds of the marred.

But what of their minds they are still distressed,

Their hearts are still fearful,

Their souls are still wounded,

And we are left with our efforts

Broken, weak, and vulnerable.

But I see Jesus

Reaching out HIS calloused hands to heal the sick,

His stable arms leading the blind,

His strength lifting up the crippled.

I see him stoop to bless the children and smile in their faces.

I see his arms stretched wide to embrace this fallen world as he is unjustly dying.

I see his nailed hands.

I see the damage inflicted in his risen flesh radiate hope and confidence

And I CANNOT stand,

I MUST kneel and raise my hands to worship.

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners (Isaiah 61:1)

But through my thankful tears, my humble act of worship, one arm is driven to my side.

To my left, to my right, THEY are there and I MUST reach them.

One hand reaching up, one hand reaching out.

To know my Lord, to worship my God, is to defend the poor and needy, the weak, the fatherless, the oppressed.

Where are YOUR hands that heal, lend stability, give strength and lift up?

They are mine, they are yours, they are ours.

WE have been anointed to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed. (Luke 4:18)

Only then, will we truly see God.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' Mathew 25:35-36