This is our story, it should be our song.

He finds us in our filth, stands by knocking patiently to be let in. No matter how long, no matter how bad. He is not turned off by the arrogance of our self-belief in idols that hold no salvation

He’s just there, waiting, arms outstretched. He does not first consult the law to figure out how long he should wait or how far He should lean in.

And when we crack open the door, when we allow a sliver of light in. He steps in and embraces us fully. Snot-nosed, face streaked with the dirt of sins too gross to name, head bowed with the weight of shame. He steps in and fully embraces us

He leans in, not with a list of dos and don’ts. Law takes a backseat to Love’s full embrace. Grace covers us completely and lays our filthy selves on His chest.

He does not hand out a bar of soap and an iron sponge. He does not point sternly towards the bathroom and say “clean yourself up”. He lovingly wipes us clean, the cleaning agent? His blood, that washes whiter than industrial grade bleach.

And when He’s done, he doesn’t hand us off to a deputy with instructions to keep us in line. No, He holds us by our hands, and walks the highs and lows with us.

This is our storyIt should be our song, raised louder than condemnation and hate, shouted from the rooftops, carried in our hearts, yes but also in our faces and definitely in our mouths.

This is our story, it should be our song!