Worth It

(My First Spoken Word Poem)

Sometimes I find myself thinking in bed while everyone’s asleep if I’m still worth the joy of a shepherd finding his lost sheep. Sometimes I lie awake and wonder to myself whether the love and grace expended on me will ever run out, like the love of God were contained in a pot and one day its last drop found itself dripping out the spout. I’ve been Your son for a very long time, and again and again and again have I asked for forgiveness. Is it possible that You will ever get tired of it? Because I would. A friend that makes the same mistake over and over and over again is not worth my time or my frustration. The lies and hate and fakeness and deception, the things I do to ruin this creation. The dirt I sweep under the rug, the filth I mask under my image, I know You are sick of it.

The void in my heart I filled with You, but later threw you out and replaced You with idols that I just knew would make me happier. Love and attention, money, possession, things that man seeks as he flees Your mission. I knew You were God and I knew You were good and I knew you could give me all the joy you promised You would but I saw beyond that. I looked away from the shore and got swayed by shiny things. I knew You pursued me but when I heard Your words I turned away, and I still do because I just know there’s something out there that I’m missing out on today. The rubies and diamonds and fortune I’m pursuing mean a lot more to me than mere amens and hallelujahs and what Your little Christians are doing. What’s the worth of a Father you can’t see or a Savior that left the earth two thousand years ago? Where’s the joy in an empty book of stories written way before I was born? What’s the worth of this emotional hype when I can strive toward things that last, like a wife and a family and money and other stuff that’s fulfilled the non-Christian in the past? What’s the worth?

Then I feel empty and unsatisfied and realize I’m never satiated by price tags and attention and unrequited love. And I realize how stupid I was and how blinded I must have been by the shackles and chains of the creature called Sin. There’s nothing here. It all gets old. I should’ve listened to the wisdom that’s ever been told: “It all fades away. It all fades away. It all fades away. But God’s love will never fade away.” “You will never change,” they sang about You, but after all of this? What else can I do but weep and fall to my knees and cry out “I’m no longer worthy! You have nothing for me. I have used up all my chips and now You’re ready to shut the door on me because it’s too late.” What’s the worth in taking back a son who grew up in Your love but ran away anyway? Where’s the joy in forgiving a wretch who took You for granted and sought other things? Where’s the peace in loving again a man who died to sin then died to You to look for other friends? What’s the worth in pouring out even a single drop of grace to the criminal who condemned Your begotten Son and spat on His face? What’s the worth in forgiving the one who nailed Your beloved to the Cross and killed Him? Murderer! I am that man, the man who killed Your Son, and yet You say You love me? And yet You say sin will never separate us even though I am the man that killed Your Jesus?

“That’s why I died,” You tell me. That’s why You had to come down and live perfectly, to bear all my sins and die with them to perfect me. Righteousness became sin, and sin became righteousness, an exchange that You initiated even in my idleness. Now I never have to taste death, and I never have to be called a wretch, and You see me whiter than snow in every breath, all because You came down and stretched Your arms wide on that Cross. The curse I’d been struggling with was hung on a tree when in Your great love You died for me. You died for me. You died for me.

And it’s incomprehensible how great the love that was birthed, how wide it must have been to bridge a gap between heaven and earth. How a grace poured out can fill the deepest sea to overflowing, how mercy mild can cover sin and change the blackest heart from deep within. Why do You do this? What do You see in me? Is there anything You would gain from setting me free? Why go through all that to make me new? Would you answer anything else apart from “That’s just how much I love you.”

Sometimes I find myself thinking in bed while everyone’s asleep if I’m still worth the joy of a shepherd finding his lost sheep. And now I know the answer, and I heard it clearly from God above, I will never be separated from His amazing love. It never runs out. It will always be there. Even more, it’s God’s personal joy to shower me in His care. He loves me, He loves me, He loves me, He loves me, He loves me, He loves me more than I’ll ever know, and every day, if I just open my eyes, He will not hesitate to show. “You are worth it,” He whispered in my heart, even to this child who loves to run, “Just because my child runs away, will he cease to be my son? I own you twice. I bought you with a price. I created you and then died for you. You’ll always be mine in my eyes.”

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