A Redeemer

It mocked her. The hospital gown. The wrist band. The cameras, recording her every second. The dose that should have killed her several times over. Failed. Cause here she was. Alive. And she’s not even sixteen years old. These are supposed to be years of vibrancy, loads of energy, aspirations and dreams. But here she was, a failed attempt to take her life.

I don’t know that level of despair. The desperation to escape this life by ending it yourself. But I’ve seen it in other eyes. In the scarred wrists. In the blackness that is worn, lived, embraced. When life becomes so hopeless it is better not lived. Oh God, how must you feel?

Lord, these silent halls of our hearts echo tears today. This mysterious language of tears expresses what our minds can only grasp at. The horror, the anguish, the longing. The regrets of those near, the helplessness of those not, but the power of your love over us all.

A REDEEMER. Your name breathes in and around me. Lifts my troubled eyes up, up, and away from these throbbing moments. For this you came, to save us sinners. To take these moments of despair and transform them. Not just in theology, but in real life actuality. That moment of triumph, when the thick veil was ripped between the most holy place in the temple now lay open and bare to the eyes of the most unholy ones. You came for us. In this- our moment of need.

I couldn’t go visit her. Only family was allowed. But I pray that you will be this: yourself, to her. You won’t lie to her and croon senseless nothings. You won’t pretend her hurts can be forgotten. But you can touch her heart in that place where no one else can. Because you made her. And understand her. And because you love her more than any of us can.

I don’t come on behalf of her distraught mother.
Or brother, trying so hard to take good care of her.
Or sister who wishes somehow, somehow, she could have done more.

But I lift one hand toward you and one towards her, and agree with your prayers, dear Jesus. You know exactly what her heart is so desperate to hear. You are life, and a life that is worth living.

Take these ashes, dear Lord, and make from it what only you can. Bring life, and life abundant.

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2 thoughts on “A Redeemer

  1. just beautiful, Lissa!!…loved the way you put it- how He won’t croon senseless nothings,etc. because He understands her. It’s so true, when He comes and touches us in our hearts deepest point- we are changed to LIFE!! ..thanks for putting your thoughts into words again..

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