Deep love.

Deep love turning scumbag into son, derelict into daughter.

Deep love transforming stone into flesh, filth into snow.

It is beyond my comprehension, this love, a love that covers a thousand sins and yet refuses to leave me sinful.

It is a promise of restoration, this love, a hope of lasting joy, a covenant of the very Presence Himself.

What of the times I am fumbling through the dark? The times the pain engulfs my heart, the sorrow blinds my soul, the ugliness of this world threatens to destroy all that I hold dear?

What of the times when I, seemingly alone, cannot catch even the faintest whiff of Him?

It has happened before and it will happen again that I feel deserted.

Alone.

Forsaken.

My God, my God!

It brings to mind another cry. Another forsaking. Another time of searing loss as the Father turns His face away.

Yet this time it was not only a feeling but a truth. A forsaking for a time in order for me, for you, for us to never be truly forsaken.

Deep love that took Him to the cross.

Deep love that took my filth upon Himself, that felt the greatest of all absences so that the Father would never turn away from me.

Those times when I am fallen in the dark?

Deep love is still surrounding me, still transforming me, still giving me Himself.

I can trust in His deep love.

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Art Credits: When the King Came by George Hodges; photograph of wooden statue by Asta Kr