There’s just this: that justice is essential to the goodness of the Lord. That a good King must deal out punishment for wrongdoing or else give up that title “good.” That all of us are condemned under the law of the just Judge, culpable for open rebellion, deserving death.
But Christ. But Christ the sinless One took my sins upon Himself, and took God’s wrath against that sin. All of it. All the sin. All the wrath.
But Christ. But Christ the sinless One wrapped me in His righteousness. So that justice toward me, when I am dressed in Jesus, means I am an heir to the kingdom of the good King.
Jesus died, and was not held by death. In Him I live. And justice is perfectly satisfied.
Before writing the above, I came to a coffee shop for the purpose of reading and writing. I read George Herbert, and, his rhythms in mind, somewhat accidentally wrote a sonnet. I’m feeling generous, so here’s the unpolished poem:
Sun and spring wind behind me, and before
A mocha latte froth and ready page.
My mind was set to write, and yet I brought
No pen, nor could my van the need assuage.
He knows each hair, their number and their place.
He marks uncounted sparrows where they fall.
He numbers stars; gives food in time to all.
His love before creation wrote my days.
I asked and looked, and straightway found supply:
An uncapped Sharpie pen in rain soaked grass,
Then pencil in the shrubbery hardby.
All gifts come down from Him, Father of lights;
His goodness gilds each day from first to last:
With pencil He bestowed my thanks I write.
Linking up today with the Five Minute Friday community, writing on today’s prompt, just. The button above will take you to the link-up.
©2019 by Stacy Crouch