No longer having to be

 

 

 

Refugees.

In war torn countries.

And the homeless.
On the streets.

Hospitals full.
And nursing homes.

Feeling different.
And set apart.

Reality slamming hard.
Against hopes and dreams.
Facing loss.
And fearing.

Even those of us.

In homes warm. And safe.
The wee hour moments.
Threatening to bury.
With pressure and worry.

And feeling different.
For it.  Full of shame.

An outcast.
On so many levels.
From others.
In this broken world.

Because.
Things just not.
What they are supposed.
To be.  And longing for.
The pretty perfect picture.

And in the redemptive story.

Jesus, too, an outcast.

When He departed heaven.
And hung on a tree.

To rescue.

And we like to.
Rescue the hungry.
And the babies.
And the abandoned puppies.
All good things.

But He.

Rescued us.

In a way we are unable.

Offering.
In our broken and our shame.

A new status.
As His beloved.
No longer having to be.

Outcast.

And reaching out to others.
Who are.