for his freedom

swift feet

stumbling across the rocky terrain

as his heart beats

faster than ever before

eyes that never quite meet anyone's 

filled with the guilt of the knowledge

of who he has become.

this is how i imagine him

i cannot bear to believe that he is 

self righteous enough to not know

somewhere, 

deep in his soul,

hidden underneath the

 layers and layers

of fake personas 

and masks of versions 

of himself he 

chooses to pull out when 

his old one wears down, 

i pray that he knows, 

that he's running from his sin 

and the truth of who he is.

so when i imagine him,

i see him running, 

trying desperately to hide from 

the light that he cannot allow 

himself to be seen in, 

for the transparency of his lies.

but i do not just see a broken,

shameful boy, 

i see the presence of the Redeemer

calling out every three steps,

"where are you?".

no matter how far he runs

to the east or to the west,

the deep love of our Messiah 

will find him there.

He's calling out to him, 

that old fire in His crimson eyes,

"I know you. I've seen your pain

and I have indeed seen all that you've 

done; it's only pardon will be blood.

love, can't you see that i've ransomed 

you, my perfect one? you are standing

in your own sin and iniquity,

refusing to accept that i've

already died so you could be free".

my heart aches.

how long until the broken see that 

the Redeemer longs for their freedom?

how long until the ones i love no 

longer sleep unaware they are running

out of precious time?