A-Poem-a-Day
Until Resurrection Day
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| Image credit: bibleprophecytruth.com |
IT PLEASED THE LORD TO CRUSH HIM[1]
When I applied stinging iodine
to the tender knees of my children
or a corrective spank
or a hug to assuage a broken heart
I remember that
their wounds, hurts
even the chastisements
wounded me more than them –
Why, I would've become a she-lion
poised to pounce and mangle
bruisers of my own –
yet the very God I know as Love
was pleased to crush
was delighted to bruise[2]
His Very Own
So, I shudder, convinced
God's ways are infinitely higher
than my finite mind can grasp –
for God stayed His almighty hand
held His almighty tongue
waited it out in His Heaven
pleased, even delighted
to give His Only Son
innocent, docile as a lamb
to be mocked, bruised, spat upon
crowned with thorn branches
stripped and nailed naked to a tree –
yes, pleased and delighted was He
as the Most Precious Blood
of His Only Son
rained like rubies
upon the ground
Pleased and delighted am I
that the God Who so loves
crushed and bruised
His Very Own
for me
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