What Beauty Must Have Looked Like

I can only imagine what it must have been

To see His eyes when she poured out her dowry 

At his feet

To see the tears start to form as He calls out to His people who are so broken, 

beckoning them to be wrapped 

In His arms, embraced so wholly.

Oh, what I would give to see that look of total love, so beautiful and free,

Not condemned by law, 

Nor chained by brokenness.

To see those eyes of gentleness gaze upon a daughter so disgraced, 

Lying naked before Him

In the condemnation and shame of her actions.

My ears itch to hear those words He spoke, asking,

"Where are your accusers?"

To see the manifestation of Grace Sufficient 

What would if be like, to see Him walk up to me, impossibly,

After all I've done to push Him away

And gaze with the grace of oceans-

The repetition. The echo.

Again, again;

"Do you Love Me?"

My heart-cry bursts forth in anxious response, 

Yes, of course!

He who is wisest knows my heart, my flaws, my betrayal.

But all that He requires is that response that shouts,

"I love you!"

Love- the singular thing that can conquer all betrayal, every infection, lie.

He whispers as we pool in our self-condemnation,

The only words that could possibly be sufficient medicine for our terminal illness;

"Let Me love you."