Mended

'For Him to see me mended, I must see Him torn,' quoted from Luci Shaw

'For Him to see me mended, 
I must see Him torn'
like a lamb before slaughter
He was shorn;
the seamless garment He had worn
strewn beneath the cross, 
a tree
hewn for His demise

The angry mob cries,
"Crucify,"
and lets 
the insurrectionist go free
Christ's back shredded,
His hands and feet pierced
He hung draped above
the passers-by,
the ones who cursed Him
and swore,
the ones who nursed Him,
and more,
all who He loved

The curtain in the temple  tore
from up high to down below
as the One 
who descended from above
gave His last breath
and tasted death,
our death
for our offence

Wrapped in strips of cloth
His body was bound,
placed in a maiden tomb; 
three days hence 
women arrived
with burial spice
to furnish Christ

Upon the tomb's stone
sat an angel, burnished
"He is not here," he told Mary
Filled with fear and joy,
she did not tarry,
her footsteps quickened
to share the news
with the grief-stricken,
"He is risen!"

When Peter heard 
that the One he had denied
might somehow be alive,
he raced out of the room,
entered the empty tomb;
all he found there
were strips of linen, torn;
he went away
pondering by the shore

No doubt his past failure
snarled in his mind
but his Redeemer 
met him there;
his thoughts were realigned
to follow Christ,
the One he loved
more than his very life

We are mended, commended 
by Christ, the resurrected;
our filthy rags He has transposed
Now in His righteousness,
we're clothed
---
March 19, 2016

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