Bloody Knees


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I spend most of my time thinking about stories, but I couldn’t have conjured up a better one for myself. It was not easy to stare the devil in the face, dare him, tell him I wouldn’t hand him my brother. It made my knees turn into water. It made me run, run, run. Most days I’d hide by the hem of Jesus’ robe. Begged him to heal, to turn the lights on, to reverse the script.

I told the devil he wouldn’t win. How dare he touch my brother. I told him his power was not permanent. Some days I wasn’t so sure, but the bible told me Jesus listened to those who cry. I cried a lot. Lost all courage at His feet, turned to water, turned to tears. I said, “Lord, please listen to me.”  He did, He did, He did.

One thing I learned – it is easy to lose. A whole lot easier to give up. Sometimes it’s rational to think that we’ll be saving time and energy if we stopped caring and succumbed. But today, if you’re fighting through the apathy and elbowing your way through the mess – and if you dare stare the devil in the face and say not today – know that the God of the heavens is standing right beside you. A cloud of witnesses is cheering you on. You can do this, you can fight for this, you’ll have the final say. The persistent get their heart’s desire because their hearts go through fire and back just to be able to kneel in front of Jesus. To lift to Him the case. We lack weapons and words but He has an arsenal of love and forgiveness and power.

Hold on to your heart, make your way through hell, present it, all bloody and bruised, to Jesus. Hand it over to him. Allow honesty to heal. By grace, unfathomable grace, was it only possible for me to hear the words I wanted to hear for so, so long, a year and a day–

“Sorry I lied to you, Kriz.”
“Okay lang, Jer. Tapos na. Finally, tapos na.”

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