A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day
IMAGINE
Imagine worshipping a cooing one
moment, whimpering the next, born to save us, sweet baby God, lying in a trough
filled with scratchy straw, needing a diaper change
Imagine worshipping a
stone-kicking, frog-in-pocket, sticky-fingered, tousle-haired God, gleefully
splish-splashing through mud-puddles along a rocky Nazareth road
Imagine worshipping a nose-in-the-Scroll,
confident little-boy-God, teaching in the Temple, confounding elders with
astonishing Truths, as His parents search for Him
Imagine worshipping a rugged,
long-haired, son-of-a-carpenter adolescent God, as He learns (ironically) to
skillfully select woods and deftly wield a hammer and nails
Imagine worshipping a gregarious,
life-of-the-party, wedding-guest God, Who miraculously turns stone jars of
purification water into jars of finest wine at Cana
Imagine worshipping a child
embracing, woe pronouncing, multitude feeding, leper-cleansing God, Who walks
upon water, instructs the wind and even raises the dead
Imagine worshipping a
bread-breaking, wine-offering, foot-washing God, Who soon to be betrayed,
beseeches His Heavenly Father, and sweats blood in an olive garden
Imagine worshipping a
30-something, blood-splattered, fist-struck, scourged and spat-upon God,
laboriously lugging a cumbersome crossbeam to His Own execution
Imagine worshipping a
thorn-crowned, sword-pierced, crucified-with-common-criminals sacrificial Lamb
of God, as He dies sinless for the sin of the world
Imagine worshipping a resurrected
three-days-after-burial God, Who appears ALIVE! Yes, ALIVE! in His own burial
garden, in locked rooms and to strangers along the road
Imagine worshipping this
crucified, resurrected, gloriously ascending-in-the-clouds, victorious Son of
God, Who says, "Go into the world and tell them."
Tell them…
He did it for them
Imagine…
Maude Carolan
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