Dying for the Justice of God

We live and we die waiting for the justice of God, Our hearts rent open, bleeding, We try pressing bloodstained bandages to the festering wounds of the world. This stark, desolate utopia once called the Kingdom of God Now naked having deposed her King Perhaps thinking that medicine supplied might work without him. Where are…

It is finished

That silent whisper in Incarnation, thundering into the loud roar of atonement. That the light shines in darkness, that darkness which will not overtake it. Those words on the broken dying man’s lips, It is finished.