Outside the jasper walls, peering in at His loving family,
A glowing contrast to the ashes and waste that surrounds me.
I stand in rags and wounds.
To my amazement the beautiful young groom holds out His hand and says,
"I love you." "Me, a rebellious leper?" "Yes, take my hand, Come to Me".
"But I can't. I've done my own thing, Gone my ways and now I see. I am dying alone, destitute." "Take My hand. Come."
" I can't! I'm not worthy.
My skin crawls with filth!" "Shh, My love, take my hand."
I tentatively reach out and touch His gentle pierced hand.
He draws me into Him and He into me.
I am His bride. I partake with His family.
Not left behind, not second place but always and forever blended and united, joint heirs.
[Mary Jane Andrews]
Romans 8:17 ... And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. ❤
