God is
God is
the water turned to wine
at the pleas of the mother,
duty and love bringing power forth.
God is
the whip, cleansing the temple,
the rage at defiled holiness,
and the tempest of love making it clean.
God is
the mud, dripping off of the no-longer-blind man’s eyes,
the tender mercies of love,
the healing of his touch.
God is
the tears shed over Lazarus,
the sorrow of a life gone for now,
only tempered by dreams of eternity.
God is
the laughs of the children
He always suffers to come unto Him,
however busy the world gets.
God is
the nails, painful reminders of the evil
in the hearts of the friends and enemies
who He was pierced to save.
God is
the blood that dripped from the cross,
collecting on the earth it was shed to save,
as the parched voice cries for mercy.
God is
the empty tomb, wept over
when you just want some small solace among the heartache
but even that seems gone.
God is
the scars graven eternally onto perfect hands,
proof of just how deep
love goes.
