Sunday, March 16, 2014

barbed wire snapping song

{photo by Elora Ramirez}

we live in a world of barbed wire fences.

we're pressing flesh against sharp points and rough edges. we're desperate enough for touch, for connection, for community, that we are willing to endure the slicing and the bleeding and the tetanus-created lockjaw of silence. and it's all for the sake of being touched.

and here I am, in my home with the hardwood floors and the windows that face the East with the sun flowing in, humming Children of the Heavenly Father with tears in my eyes. because this can't be what He meant when He breathed His name over us like the holiest of commissions.

it's fitting that we're stepping into this time of year, slowly placing one foot in front of another as we approach each station of the Cross, each moment in the journey from Son of Man to Lamb of God. we're approaching His time of broken body. we are standing mere feet away from the blood-stained Israeli stones.

and I'm hushed in the holiness of it all. hushed in the realization that there was the barbed wire of nature that pressed deep into the forehead of fully-Man-fully-God. there was the bits of bone and metal and stone twisted into leather strips that severed skin from muscle and bone.

the barbed wire was destroyed the moment that death started working backwards. 

"it is finished." and He meant it, every weak and agonized syllable. it is done. it is complete. there are no more fences, no more twisted rusted metal gates designed to shred and tear and bleed and sever. it is finished. 

we're good at swords, somehow. we're good at evisceration in the name of love. we're good with breaking, but not so good with loving the broken. we're good with thudding, not so good with the gentle touch. we're good with barbed wire fences and darkened windows.

I want to be good with Jesus. I want to become good with Holiness streaming from my lips like water and Grace filling the baskets surrounding my feet like so much bread and fish created from scraps of "all she has is..."

I don't want to be so good with a sword. I want to be better with wire-cutters. there are wounds, blood, all for the sake of being touched. there is the virus of silence raging rampant through the veins of those who have been bound and gagged by the well-meaning millstone carvers.

but look at yourself, beloved ones. those scarlet letters are written in chalk. the rain is coming, pouring, and they are blurring into streaks that match the glorious sunrise. do you hear? that is the sound of rust caving under blades.

run free, lioness. He has laid flowers in your hair. He is leaping, arms raised and mouth wide open at the joy of you. the sight of you has Him undone.

the night has ended. this is the Morning. 

11 comments:

  1. "I don't want to be so good with a sword. I want to be better with wire-cutters." Beautiful

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    1. thank you for your sweetness, dear Alissa. I am honoured by your witness. <3

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  2. Rachel, I don't know - I am just in tears this morning. Your words have touched something deep inside of me. I guess I'm feeling more bound up in barbed wire than I realized. Oh, the picture of Him undone at the sight of me? I am undone at that image. Truly, He delights in ME??? That thought in itself strips me of rust, and wounds, and clenched fists.

    Thank you for this beautiful post. It has touched me deeply today.

    GOD BLESS!

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    1. that picture struck me so deeply, as well, dearest Sharon. it was spoken from the pulpit this past Sunday in a way that had me completely awed. I had never heard that the direct translation from Hebrew in Zeph. 3:17 is that EXACT picture :: mouth open, laughing, arms wide, leaping in the air in a circle as He sings pure joyous delight over us.

      we are stripped and we are made clean. <3

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    2. oh how i love this translation of Zeph 3:17. I was in counseling a few years ago, grieving the old grief of losing a little brother when he was 2 1/2 (i was 12 and i am now 66). The counselor helped me ask Jesus where he was when my little brother died- and He was holding me - telling me of his love and how sad he was with me. Zeph 3:17 was the scripture God gave me at that time. It's very precious to me. Sometime things get really hard, but i can't quite get away from this scripture. Lovely - thank you.

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  3. oh my GOD. this...this had me in tears:

    "run free, lioness. He has laid flowers in your hair. He is leaping, arms raised and mouth wide open at the joy of you. the sight of you has Him undone.

    the night has ended. this is the Morning."

    i needed this reminder this morning. that it is finished. there is nothing left to do, but run free. thank you, thank you, thank you.

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    1. oh, such love to you, dear charla beth. I am so grateful for your words here. that last quote is from C.S. Lewis' "The Last Battle," and has rung like a bell in my heart for my entire life.

      you are worthy, dear one.

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  4. So...lovely...I love those last few lines...being addressed as a lioness gives me courage to do what He has called me to do!

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    1. that's one of the reasons that I love Narnia so much. "you are a lioness, and all of Narnia will be renewed." oh that stirs me deep.

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  5. so, so beautiful. "we're good with breaking, but not so good with loving the broken. we're good with thudding, not so good with the gentle touch. we're good with barbed wire fences and darkened windows."

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  6. Julie, love, I always love seeing how these words touch each heart. thank you for your love here.

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I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon