for even the guilty

the pastor spoke with such compassion, yesterday. and he spoke so seriously. the power of perspective. the cross. Jesus. the world.

there's a wrestle. attempting to figure out how to view a circumstance. what perspective should be held? if through the lens of Christ, should pain caused by this world be ignored, stuffed, and forgotten (which is what forgiveness looks like)? but if through the lens of humanity, should not justice be served?


Luke 23.39, "One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, "Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!"


to scream out the same thing as a hanging thief...this I have done. and my heart says, "what is wrong with that?" is not God big enough to take it? seriously, "God, if you are who you say you are, get.me.out! save. me."

while the thief on the other side says, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?..." Luke 23.40 


there is not much fear of Him left within this soul.

fear of what He can do.
a knowledge that He is the God.
an understanding of His love [...]
disconnected.
seeking.

the message of the cross is, indeed, offensive. if one can never be good enough for Him, why should anyone even try to be good?

desiring to merge my humanity with His sovereignty. to merge the cross, Jesus, and the world. to believe that even if it looks unlike it to you, He is guiding these steps of mine, too. that where I am is where I am supposed to be. to go so far to even believe that He brought me here. to believe that He is in the middle of this disgust, too.

to believe that even after the questions, Paradise is still a possibility... for even the guilty...