Stolen

When you know that you are the thief that hangs on a cross next to Christ.

The one who has stolen every good thing.

The one who knows what he has done and knows what he deserves.

The one who asks "Jesus...Remember me?"

When you are that kind of thief, and when you are that kind of sad.

When you wonder how you will ever lift your eyes up.

He says..."Truly, you will be with me today in paradise."

He says,  "Truly."

He says,  "You will be with me."

And where in all this world would I rather be than with my Jesus?

He is with me, and I am with Him.

And even though I lived a crucified past.

Past redemption and full of holes.

Now, I have been crucified with Christ.

And it is no longer I who live.

But Christ.

In me.

And all the weight that I carry, He knows.

And all the shame that I wear, He knows.

Every tear I cry, He sees.

Yes.

He sees me.  He knows me.

And don't I sense His pleasure?

When I cry, "Jesus, Remember me."

He reaches straight down...

To wipe my broken tears.

To hold my shattered life.

To call me His child and to be my Father.

To say that He is making all things new.

And when He says,

"Truly."

"You will be with me today."

He gives me hope for Paradise.


Heaven and Home,

Bernadette

Luke 23:32-43