Tag Archive | redeemed

In the Court of Judgment

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Court of Judgment, if you please,
Will give me but chance to explain?
And I look around me seated in every chair,
The judgment seats occupied by me.

I continue on as if undaunted,
By the challenge of defending myself,
But first I must also prosecute,
So I am both friend and foe unfolded.

As prosecutor I know my every crime,
Every unkind word, every act of disrespect,
The yardstick of my misconduct?
The Bible I’ve myself declared true through time.

I show myself no mercy nor grace,
Sin after sin I hurl as proof,
I can be no Christian it is surely true,
I now show no pity as I glare at my face.

Concluding now the Prosecution’s turn,
I look to myself, also the Judge,
“Your honor she deserves a painful death,
She does for Eternity, deserve to burn.”

I’m beaten there can be no doubt,
Displayed in all the ugly of my sins,
As Prosecutor I delight in my smugness,
I will burn in Hell there is no way out.

Then Jesus walks into the scene,
His robes of white, His brilliant shine,
Compared to Him I’m in mud and rags,
Quietly He asks, “Are you not born again?”

“My Daughter, is your name in the Book of Life?
When I knocked upon Your hearts door,
Didn’t you ask me then to come in?
Agree to follow me through all strife?”

Then He reaches down and has me rise,
And reflected in His saintly eyes,
For a flash I see and understand anew,
That by His blood I’m sanctified.

My sins count against me no more.
And reflected too in His sight,
I see the beauty He sees, created for me,
To Satan, sin and myself I am guilty no more.

Court of Judgment, if you please,
Listen to Jesus, Redeemer of all men,
Find me guilty if you must, but know,
Jesus paid for you and for me,

His blood was shed in ultimate sacrifice,
At judgment when our sins are displayed,
When we ourselves want to look away,
We are redeemed, He paid the price.
                  d.f.a.v. 6/30/15
—Donna

Message to Me

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This is my public forum.  Here I express, confess, ignore, share, hide behind, hide in and expound upon a number of topics.  My goal is to write about what living the life of a Believer is like and about how I live that life even if my only contribution to my local church congregation is as a “pew warmer” these days.

Sometimes I write poetry, share artwork, tell stories, give voice to other people whose testimonies expire me or simply tell it like I see it.  Since it’s my blog, it’s my message, my testimony and my biggest obstacle is ME!

Yes, me!  I can “own” that truth. 

I don’t want to be labeled as a higher than thou Christian.  So I hesitate to say anything that I fear might come across as judgemental. 

I don’t want to be labeled an opponent to any political party, person or platform, so I don’t write about my political views. 

I don’t want to be labeled as pious.

I don’t want to be labeled as a heretic.

I don’t want to be labeled as a reformer.

I don’t want to be LABELED.

Yet, I label myself.  I box myself in.  I limit myself.  I second guess myself, my abilities, my motives, my knowledge, my thoughts; even my own voice.

Why?

Because I am me.

I am the first grader whose mother moved her to the last seat in the last row on her first day of school so the doctors daughter could sit where she wanted.  I am the fat kid so teased and taunted in school she hid in the bathroom to cry.  I am the child whose father ruled with anger and violence.  I am the girl so terribly shy and found friends so hard to make that her families 13 moves in 12 years devastated her every single time.  I am the girl no one wanted.  I am the girl whose innocence was stolen and who never told until the thief died and his threats could not be carried out.  I am the one who has waited in the wings of her own stage, left unpenned her own truth, and unsung her own life.

By these acts I have labeled myself.

For can a 49-year-old woman seriously look herself in the mirror and point at anyone other than herself for what her life is or isn’t?  No, no I don’t think so.

See, my mother placed me in that last row, last seat BUT I have remained there.  Jesus loved me enough to die for me AND I have chosen to think of myself as a person of little worth.

My father beat me, his beatings eventually led me to losing a leg and those events to losing my identity because I CHOSE to make what I did for a living who I was.  The Living Word of God tells me I am the Daughter of God, not a job.

For every act, thought, or deed that a person outside of me did to wipe out me God has done a hundred times more to keep here. I have just been to busy labeling my boxes to understand.

Yes, this is where I am. This is who I am, warts, scars, flaws and all. I do not write like those whose opinions matter too much to me. I do write like me though.

If God’s okay with that, then I am too.

Let it be!
-Faye