“Your eyes saw my unformed body
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be. ” – Ps. 139:16 (NIV)
What is my audacity?
I’ll call it the love of Divinity
To my Creator I’m worth something
A precious soul worth saving
You people know my name
But call me by my pain: my sin
Divinity knows my shame
Yet calls me by name: Ammi (my people) >Hosea 2:1 & 23
O how He searched for me
To make good His promise to me
To take unto Himself this cast-off me
He, Divinity, travelled downhill to me
He travelled all the way
All the way down to where I lay
Looking as for a lost sheep
To and fro, no blinking, no sleep
He walked earth’s surface
Inconvenient as that seemed to be
Up and down among her race
To ransom and grab a man as me
Where I was in chains kept
Into that grave Grace descended
That He may ransom the same dead
For my sake Likght appeared in the depths
One was found by a rescuing other
And as the Law demanded for one to occupy
The Living choose in death to remain
So that the dead unto life may attain
(Jesus, Life, choose death that the dead, me, may revive)
But I came forth with grave clothes about
The folks called me even by them clothes
And the bevvies saw me and covered their nose
They just couldn’t tell who it was that was alive
The smell of the grave kept the living at bay
And though I was also alive
Their satisfaction was a price I’d pay
A price to qualify for their approval
But Life couldn’t stay in death
For grave laws could not keep Him down there
He had come for the dead man
But He wasn’t done with him just yet
He was confronted with the laws of death
But He buried that law of the grave with it
He left no stone unturned
As He switched all lights back on
With a trump and the shout of celestial voices
Life came alive to dead man walking
Alive as seen but standing all alone
As acceptance was offered by all but none
Loose him and let him go
The order was obeyed and perfection was revealed
Beyond the wraps of death which they had seen
Was a man as perfect as me
Now I am dressed in royalty as this story I tell
In my story a mystery beyond tradition is revealed
The dead can live again
And the broken mended again
Glories can abound again abroad
Imperfection can again be turned
Because if Jesus could save me
Then the dry bones can again live.
©JAMES O. GEORGE
2019
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