The Day I Lied To Jesus
The Day I Lied to Jesus
One day when I got out of my car
Something happened that was quite bizarre.
A man showed up not extremely far.
Where had he come from? I could not say.
After I parked, I had looked that way.
He simply showed up and walked my way.
My heart was pumping a hundred beats.
With golden skin, he started to greet.
“Do you know who I am?” he did entreat.
“No.” I replied with lumps in my throat.
“I am Jesus.” He said. And that’s a quote.
“He must be crazy.” was my mental note.
“Do you believe me?” I stood dead still.
“Are you like Thomas?” There came a chill.
“I’m NOT like Thomas.” my voice was shrill.
“I believe Christ lives, death overcome.”
He showed me one hand; I became numb.
Both arms extended. Scars? I saw some.
Flesh had been ripped from his wrist to palms.
Jagged and wide, he showed me, no qualms.
All of the while, I tried to stay calm.
I started to shake, cold in my tracks.
“Do you want to see my side?” Brain racks…
“Are you afraid?” Shall we talk out back?
I shook my head no; that was a lie.
“Do you want to ask some questions?” sigh,
“No. I have no questions” my reply.
Then, across my yard, head bowed, he left.
That frightful day my faith was bereft.
I ran inside shaking; my heart cleft.
Was it My Lord or was it not He?
That question still rumbles inside me.
One thing agreed; from sin I now flee!
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 3, 2010
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2010
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