Rescue Mission

"When we were utterly helpless with no way of escape, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners who had no use for him. Even if we were good, we wouldn't really expect anyone to die for us, though, of course, that might be barely possible. But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners."

(Romans 5:6-8, The Living Bible)

Utterly helpless was I
all thrash and quiver with self-rescue
while astride the crumbling lip of tomorrow's chasm,
teeter-footed with pre-plunging fear.

The wide mouth of Leviathan gaped for me
as the rip-tide of ocean
snatched at my shirttail
and shoelaces
and teeth.
(prying my fingers, it was.)

Timing is everything,
mused God
while the rocks were nursing-young
and unnamed animals teemed, slithered, and flew.

Then
from the vaulted sky shot Jesus
faster than a speeding bullet straight to the cross
(or so it seemed to me
as I threw my last vestige of dignity, sanity
and balance into the icy blast.)

At the right time
(my last stab at goodness a whimpering failure)
He grabbed me
as I fell shuddering with death throes
while spewing I'm fine.

Yet utterly helpless was I
shorn of all worth saving.

"Amazing Love, how can it be
that Thou my Lord, should'st die for me?" (Charles Wesley)