Streams of Comfort

This poem came to be through my mediation on Isaiah 1:15-20. It is astonishing to me that God pronounces Israel guilty and full of sin. And mere moments later, tells them that they will be free of their sin. If they turn from their ways. I think Israel, and we as well, inadvertently choose loneliness when we choose our own way. We separate ourselves from the only one that can fulfill the entirety of our relational needs. And in doing so, we miss out on experiencing the love that is being poured out on us. A gift that comes down from God our father.

There is nothing more beautiful than hands that reach up for forgiveness,
Gentle hands,
That remember violence,
Have forgotten compassion,
Are stained red with regret,
With no sense of touch.
The Father’s heart is moved by such hands,
Their humility calls to his mercy,
Their fingertips touch his grace,
And he lavishes them with forgiveness,
With love.
The world cannot love such scarred hands,
They are guilty,
Lonely,
Convicted of sin.
But somehow,
When they reach up to the creator,
When they surrender to his will,
They are washed clean,
They are healed,
Their dirty deeds are forgotten,
And are replaced with good ones.
So hands that are gentle, stained, scarred, and lonely,
Are the most beautiful,
Because they are the only ones that reach up for God,
And freely accept the love he lavishes upon them.