Redemption | pictured words

DEANNA (BRIGHT AS DAY)

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Freehand original art by Deanna Marie Metts

Her light was dimmed years ago. Everything she enjoyed was taken from her. Books. Music. Art. NY Times crosswords. Energy. Drive. Laughter. All of it, gone. All of it. But in God’s timing and in His way, the expression of herself through her art has been returned. Not in the same way, but brand new, as God renewed her spirit and drew her to Himself. Rekindling her light with His own, she is never truly alone. New Spirit. New Light never fails her, despite that which ails her.

At her drawing board,
what was lost is now restored.
New way. Bright as Day.

December 18, 2019

CHRISTMAS’S ONLY PERFECT GIFT

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If one knew not what Christmas was about,
it seems that they’d find little evidence
of Jesus Christ. Not much to make them doubt
the countless signs of our greed’s eminence.

The season focuses on “perfect” gifts,
beginning in our early childhood.
Our storefronts mostly offer toys and glitz,
all tempting us to spend more than we should.

It’s not that I’m a “humbug.” Truly, not.
But when I’m home from shopping, my heart warms.
My focus shifts from things that I have bought,
to what I wish were more the season’s norms.

A Christmas flag portrays Christ’s holy birth.
A swaddled Baby rests in bed of straw:
This One Who Saves, through whom we have our worth,
Whose sinless life fulfilled for us God’s law.

The manger scene glows warm beneath my tree,
while Santa makes his presence known nearby –
his hat removed, head bowed, on bended knee,
in humble awe. Let God be glorified!

Let’s celebrate the birth of God’s own Son.
In Him, our full redemption has been won!

December 15, 2019

GOD BLESSED US, EVERY ONE

Image credit: Pixabay

Can we be thankful
for that which we aren’t aware
we’ve even received?

Yet God has blessed us,
every one of us, with
His very own Son,

leaving the glory
of heavenly realms aside,
born of a virgin

in humblest of means,
crying with the bleating sheep,
and braying donkeys.

No silent night, this,
yet holy, miraculous,
and liberating.

A virgin woman
bore this “for unto us” Child
in obedience

to the very God
Who chose her to give life to
the Giver of Life.

She named Him Jesus.
He who had no beginning –
Who was here before

the world’s foundation –
the Co-Creator of all –
became a newborn.

He grew in wisdom,
and did only that which His
Father told Him to.

His Father gave Him
all things, and left our judgement
in His holy hands.

We are guilty, all.
But the Father made a way:
His name is Jesus.

God gave His own Self
in the Person of the Son
to redeem the lost.

We are all the lost,
falling short of God’s glory.
But now He sees us

through the saving grace
of The One who redeemed us
on Calvary’s cross.

So I ask again:
Can we be thankful for that
which we aren’t aware

we’ve even received?
Jesus Christ died once, for all.
Many witnessed it.

And many witnessed
also His resurrection
from that very death –

the death that was ours.
He gifted us with His love,
and His saving grace.

Know Him, and know this:
God sanctified us. God blessed
us, every one.

2 Comments

May 4, 2019

SHE CALLS HERSELF AN ADDICT

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I suppose when cravings for poison
introduced in past moments of pain
threaten to pull you to ocean’s floor
and you remember the relief of
oxygen to your lungs,
you might find it irresistible, this temptation to
breathe –

even if it is one breath.
Even if it threatens
to fill your lungs with death.

But she –
she would rather not breathe

than return to the venom her body craves.
She would rather hold her breath,
while waiting for her Redeemer
to meet her in the depths.
To lift her face.
To breathe life to her very soul.

She calls herself an addict.

I call her a child of the God who Saves.
I call her brave.
I call her inspiring.

I call her friend.

6 Comments

September 7, 2018

THERE ARE TIMES (AND WE ARE IN THEM)

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There are times (and we are in them)
when people communicate
without vision,
in every way in which that phrase
may be defined.

There are times (and we are in them)
when truth seems intangible,
and lies lie before us.
With us.
In us.

There are times (and we are in them)
when the enemy of our souls
thinks he has the best of us,
because we give him reason.

There are times (and we are in them)
when the God who created all
sees His creation through eyes
we cannot even glimpse,
much less grasp.

There are times (and we are in them)
when this same God
immeasurably loves His weak children
and holds our downcast, shamed faces
in His hands.

There are times (and we are in them)
when the need for one another
is greater than the sum total
of the sin we daily live.

There are times (and we are in them)
that crave recognition of
our Savior’s costly love for us –
to help us see ourselves and others
for what we are:
children
in need of love.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

2 Comments

March 30, 2018

The Bloodstained Cross (Sonnet for Simon of Cyrene)

Image credit: http://catholicinbrooklyn.blogspot.com/2013/03/meditation-on-fifth-station-of-cross.html

God’s word says little of this man: A Jew,
Pulled from the crowd to carry Jesus’ cross.
I wonder what he felt, and what he knew.
What ‘Jesus stories’ had he come across?

The Passover perhaps had drawn him there –
A dispersed Jew, returned to celebrate,
Who suddenly now had a cross to bear?
So little known. So much to speculate.

But he was there, as God had preordained,
And I can’t help but think that he was stirred,
To look into the eyes of one so maimed,
Still full of grace. God’s only Son. God’s Word.

Oh Simon, what an awe-inspiring role …
You touched the very blood that saved your soul.

3 Comments

April 30, 2017

THE GOD I KNOW (a sonnet to my Savior)

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Bleeding Heart Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

I used to think I knew the God I know.
But over time, I’ve come to know Him more.
More intimately close than long ago,
I’ve learned more of this Heart I can’t ignore.

In part, I’ve come to recognize my sin
As more egregious than I had before.
This veil of righteousness is wispy thin,
For I am but a sinner at my core.

The realization of the heart of God,
Whose love spilled blood for even such as I
(A seemingly good woman, deeply flawed),
Just makes me long to praise and glorify

The One who drew me to Him as a child,
In whom I’ve grown remarkably beguiled.

8 Comments

April 16, 2017

No Longer Under the System of Law

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Amazing grace
complete, profound.
Enslaved in sin, set free.
How great the cost
that shook the ground.
Defining love for me.

(Inspired, of course, by John Newton’s “Amazing Grace”)

4 Comments

March 4, 2017

Reluctant Warrior (Sonnet for my brave, sweet friend)

Photo by Keith R. Good

The daddy that abused demands respect,
While brazenly he’s courting the profane.
She waits for alcohol to take effect,
Or swallows pills to numb the memory’s pain.

She daily chokes down bitter, misplaced guilt
That he’s imposed since she was just a child.
Wet pillow, stained where nightly shame is spilt,
Her very tears believe they are defiled.

But now she shuns her means for quick relief;
She’s trading pills and alcohol for truth.
And though her battle’s cruel beyond belief,
She’s vanquishing the crutches of her youth.

Her steadfast vision lifts and touches me.
Her only goal? “To God, the glory be.”