A friend of mine wrote this incredible poem and I had to share it! It’s a spoken word poem so it may not translate as well in written form but you will still get it and love it!
Imagine what would happen if all the words I spoke in a day grew arms and legs and became like little people running around.
Some would be ugly, others stupid, some funny, others beautiful.
But there was a man, so ordinary in looks and occupation who was a word, breathed from the very mouth of God,
His hands contained all of the vowels of the word Hallelujah and His body was split- like an infinitive.
He was a word with no conventional spelling, followed no grammatical rules and could not be defined as noun, verb, adjective, adverb or pronoun.
No tense can contain Him because whether, present, past or future, He is always perfect.
There is a sentence that begins ‘In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and the word was God.
Yet they sentenced this Word to crucifixion and left him hanging on the cross like a preposition.
In front of the grave they rolled a stone. It stayed there like a full stop saying ‘this story is over’.
But the stone sat there for three days and when three full stops come together they form an ellipses: a mark that shows a sentence is actually part of a bigger, more beautiful story. A story spanning thousands of years. A story of Grace so outlandish it invaded our every synapse and changed the very syntax of our destiny.
A stone rolled in front of a grave can look like a full stop. But when you fix your eyes on heaven and see God’s place in this story, you understand that the grave was not a full stop but the bottom half a colon: a mark used to separate two main clauses- the old covenant and the new.
And so the word of God bore our sentence and rose again with punctuation marks on each hand.
And when constructing the sentence of our lives, if we put him as the subject, we ourselves become the object of his affection, with the verb ‘love’ resonating throughout.