Poetry

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Like kidnap victims
we are stolen from our Father
but not by some unknown criminal,
no we are taken from Him
by our own choices,
our own doing,
our own sin
We are hidden from His face,
from His presence
A ransom must be paid,
an awesome ransom
one we could never pay,
not in a hundred lifetimes
A ransom that could not be forgiven, excused
God used His own self, His son
another face of the Father
to pay our ransom
so we could be returned
to our Father

October 21, 2006 21:00
Mark 10:43b-45
“whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

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