He said it out loud. Unexpected but anticipated. The words matched the situation but how could he know. He spoke reality without even knowing the situation. To have it recorded would do it much better justice.
The explanation of pulling away instead of coming together. The desire of running and hiding with hopes of the darkness covering transgressions and iniquities. Feeling like the darkness can keep it under wraps with no fear of being found out. Darkness keeping exposure prevented. Without exposure is there no evidence?
Even the darkness holds clues. Perhaps an untrained witness couldn’t detect the evidence staring straight in the eye but to look at the microscopic level of attitude and analyze the deeper behavior may present those close to the situation to have suspicions. But how deep will they look?
Will they investigate until the verdict is made and sentencing rendered? Is there even one that will ensure justice? Justice for the guilty or innocent, no matter the verdict? Do the prosecutors have the credentials to deliver a guilty verdict? Can any witness speak with any certainty as to the crime and be held harmless? Who among the spectators can be found innocent of equal charges?
The red dripping, pouring, leaking down rough splintered wood runs stark pure over the mortal wounds of a guilty soul. The only One that didn’t have the opportunity for justice because He took my injustices on Himself.
I threw it on Him.
I smeared it on Him without thought of what it meant for Him.
He stands in the light. Beckons through the darkness the verdict.
Proclaims mercy.
Offers grace.
Gives hope.
Loves unconditionally.
