Kippur

Flood scoured away my beauty.
Drought burned me tight skin over sharp bone.
Locust nibbled away the dry lump of heart.
Frost paralyzed thought.
Sin multiplied misery.
Foul-breathed, fanged beast coaxed
all honeyed tones, "Surrender."
Tempting offer.
But came the sound of hammer on headstone.
Or so I thought.
Pounding.
Pounding.
Pounding.
Great groaning sets it in place.
I am finished, then?
No words spoken over me?
"Father, forgive," He breathes.
A whisper caught in dry throat.
"Forgive."
A shudder.
Fierce quietude.
Warmth.
Blood-stained water finds me, washes me.
Hope painful as electricity awakening limbs urges, "Surrender."
Lungs fill with air.
I am new skin and heart in the presence of His naked love.
Standing on sure feet
Looking upon sin's grave
Covered by the shadow of great mercy.
He has left His robe nearby.
I cover myself.
The robe is His.
I am His.
Jesus.


But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior. Titus 3:4-6



Painting of God Rain is by Michael J. Hebard