Written in Red

The Love of Christ

How can I deserve it?

I am unclean.
Contaminated with unholy lusts, selfish and desirous of all that is pleasing to myself.
Every breath is polluted with black dust that threads in my blood, stemming from the dark stain of my heart.

Hell and Damnation

The Lake of Fire

This I deserve forever

He is untainted.
His garments shine brighter than the sun; they are cleaner than the purest snow.
The brightness that surrounds Him should blind my eyes, but He allows me to see it clearer than anything I have ever seen before.

How can He love me,

A rag of untold filth?

How can He even touch me?

I hide my face, ashamed to look at the One I put on a cross.
Why would He die for me?
Why would He allow Himself to take on my sin, the weight of worlds?
He does not deserve the pain of being forsaken by His Father.
It is I who should have died.

How can He absorb my sin to Himself

And give me His purity?

He takes my hands.
The marks of His suffering are forever imprinted on His wrists, His brow, His feet, His side.
What I have done has scarred the flesh of the Holy One.
Yet He looks upon me with love, and shelters me from the wrath I should have felt.
His back is marked with the punishment for my sins.

The Love of Christ,

Written in Red

I do not deserve.

And still,

He Gives.