Then came that day when we tore ourselves from him, when our hearts ripped and broke, when the cancer that is sin greedily scuttled through the wounds and with a dark hunger ravaged our very core.
How deep was his grief? Was it in a hallowed rage that he assailed that malignant evil that infects and strangles the hearts of his beloveds, we mere human beings? For with a honed, ferocious will to redeem, restore and return us, he set about to make it all right-full once more. Right-ness, goodness, just-ness, grace, mercy, fury—all fused together in a holy, insuperable power that is Love.
There are those that talk about the “scarlet thread” that weaves and twists through history and Scripture, but these days I encounter it all less like a thread and more as a sword of eternally folding steel slicing through time and space, a piercing-ever-forward blade about which all history and life twists and swings.
And when I do encounter it, it always startles me. Inside me, there’s an involuntary quickening, like a quick intake of breath as when meeting ice-cold air or a sharp beauty.
And on days like today, I simply can’t take it in.