Wednesday Riff: Real Not Ideal

One who knows sweat-soaked, bruised reality,

A saviour who understands the cost of rescue,

Has seen what it is to be truly trapped,

Like a fly in a rain puddle,

Cornered, exhausted, overrun by life,

Startled and indecisive, stuck in our tracks.

Knowing laughter and the bustling joy of friends,

Yet also knowing frowning fear,

And the loneliness of being misunderstood,

Shunned and wondering why.

One who doesn’t pretend all is well,

Who doesn’t hide behind a false persona,

Doesn’t just hope things will turn out ok,

But instead has done something.

Stepped into the grace and grime of life,

Walked our muddy tracks and cobwebbed alleys,

Jumped into the mottled mess we have made,

And the chaos we regularly leave behind.

A God with dirt in the creases of his skin,

Grease in the wrinkles on his troubled brow,

A God who knows and cares,

A God who is real not ideal,

A God for us.

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