March 28, 2011
As unfaithful as we are to God, He still holds out His hands of life to us, wishing that none of us should perish. When it seems as though we are left in the back alley, His love pursues us. No matter what we have done, He still says, “You are Mine.”
Current January freshman, Bethany Adele, unveils this type of love in her poem titled, “You Are Mine.”
You are Mine
The streets were empty of people,
The crowd had long since gone,
The festivities left behind paper scraps,
And fruit trampled on,
The street lamps were being lit,
Illumining the cold stones,
On one of these she hunched,
Holding her cup for alms.
There was no use in begging more,
All had since gone home,
But she still lingered knowing
There was nowhere else to go.
A steady rain poured down her unkempt hair,
Till suddenly she looked up,
Aware of someone’s stare.
It made her flinch but not with fear—no!
Something she had never felt,
The gaze was hot as fire
She thought that she would melt,
In that instant she realized that Someone saw her—
Every bit, all raw and ugly He saw it all.
How appalled she was—Oh, how ashamed!
Then He knelt before her and with the gentlest gesture,
He took from her the beggars trencher…
Now filled with rain.
In it mirrored years of dashed hopes,
Disappointment and pain.
Regrets, fears, mournful tears
All tasting bitterly of shame.
Raising the cup to his lips without a single word,
He swallowed the heartache, dispelled the lies,
It didn’t matter—their weight, their size,
Two beautiful hands, two perfumed feet,
And a blood stream flowing red.
‘How can this be?’ asked she, weeping at how he bled.
‘Just wait,’ answered He. ‘It is almost complete.’
Then giving back the cup He raised her to her feet.
The cup, no longer marred and wooden,
But gold, remade all new.
And still, He said, ‘There is more I must do.’
Lifting his hands where the blood ran scarlet,
He declared, ‘You are mine, my love,
No longer a harlot.
‘Many idols have you served;
Many lovers have you chased,
But by my blood all this is erased,
When you carry my blood, you carry my name,
It will change your life, for I took the blame.
What I do is my vow; how deep is my love.
It knows no bounds, it is high above.’
Then filling the cup with His blood
He said: ‘Remember me, and what I have done,
Whenever you hurt, when you feel overcome,
Never forget what you mean to me,
You are mine! You are mine!
There’s no more precious thing you can be.’