I had a dream once that I came to an empty apartment. The door was standing open, marked with crime scene tape, which I promptly ignored and pushed my way inside. There was blood everywhere. Someone had been murdered here – and not just a quick slit throat, they had been brutally murdered. There were signs of altercation, things knocked over, and the blood formed a vague sort of trail going into all the rooms of the house. Yet the feeling I had while I stood there was not one of terror. Not was it one of disgust, or even shock. I felt an incredibly welcoming, warm feel in this room, like being in a small old church. “Welcoming” really is the right word – it felt like I was supposed to be there, as if the room itself deeply wanted me to be present inside of it. I felt so comfortable here.

I realized when I woke up that the dream had been about Jesus. I had stood inside of Him. His physical aspect ripped and torn, His heart inside of Him still continued to make a soft, sacred place for me to stay.

There was a time in the past where having a crucifix over my door would have been strange for me. It’s a violent image of torture, there, right in your face, every time you go through the door. But it’s actually become quite comforting for me. The level of suffering doesn’t cause anxiety for me to look at, but the opposite: I know that I am loved and welcomed by Him. No matter how brutal his circumstances became, there was still a little heart-shaped garden inside His soul that was set apart for me since the beginning of time.

Thank you, friends, for reading.

Jesus, there is nothing without You. I was a poor stray dog once. I took shelter from the storm under Your porch; I growled when You came out to meet me. In time, I came to trust You as good, and I became tame to Your will. You took me into your home, let me sleep in Your own bed. You cleaned me, fed me, and set aside time for me. I became a member of Your own family, beloved by You and at home in your house. I became familiar with the sights and smells of Your home, until that darkness which had once embraced me became strange to me, and You became my whole world.

scriptures:

1 Peter 2:25 For “you were like sheep going astray,” but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

In the last ten years or so, between all the wars and political unrest that have occurred, I’ve heard of a number a cases of torture. Some of it’s been only hinted at, whereas some has appeared in major magazines or even been leaked onto YouTube.

It got me thinking about what my life would be like if I were ever subjected to torture. It’s difficult to imagine, but one thought that my mind kept returning to, over and over again, is that I would not like people to know about it. If I gained my freedom, I would be very slow to tell anyone about what happened, short of my physician. If photos of the horrible events emerged somewhere, I would move Heaven and Earth to keep them away from the press. No one is going to publicly post pictures that traumatize me, that show me only partially dressed, that show me at my weakest.

And yet Jesus does nothing whatsoever to cover up these events in His own life. Had His ministry occurred more recently in history, there would be a page in His photo album of His torture, and He would not flip quickly past it to get to the better pictures.

Jesus would do anything to get an invitation into our heart. It is not easy to allow anyone to touch old wounds and ask difficult questions. If someone with an easy life tried to ask me about the most painful moments of my past, I would be downright offended. But when Jesus asks me, and I see Him before me, vulnerable, naked, and hurting, and not wishing me to avert my eyes from Him…then something breaks, and He can ask me the really painful questions, and I will answer Him truthfully. I cannot say “no” to that man. The extent to which He will go, allowing Himself to be humiliated and made vulnerable, cannot help but leave me humbled and vulnerable to Him in return.

I think this poet said it best:

From “Jesus of the Scars” by Edward Shillito:
“The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.”

Friends, thank you so much for reading this entry.

Scripture verses: Micah 6:8, Isaiah 53:2b, Isaiah 53:3-5.