Red is the color of Redemption

Red is the color of Redemption.
So if you see any blood stains on my palm or dress, don’t stereotype me. I didn’t kill nobody. Though I accused one. I’m not pretty sure if He died cos He was crossed but then, I was told He was awake on the third day- Sunday.

I heard He was called Son. It’s no wonder my Sundays are so hot—because the Sun seems to pay utter reverence to His resurrection on that sunny day after a gloomy weekend.

I still held on to the blood of His death—I mean my sins, since when last I made Him cry in pain. For me it was just another satisfying fun, and nothing felt wrong till a life was slain. Then that became the anticlimax of my pleasures cos my fulfilling desires soon became a wallow in regrets..

I truly detest His cries! His pain echoed from the depth of His soul as He fought with my lust and screamed a victory– “It is finished”

But then again, I went back to resurrect what the Lifegiver had slain—the flesh. I was both foolish and confused coz to me, victory felt like pain, I childishly spilled sin upon my garment and expected no one to see the stains of my fingers accusing the One who justified me.

It’s funny how we mock His sorrow yet expect Him to comfort us when we are broken—He too was human.

One thing for sure is, that His dripping spill kills us to the flesh and resurrects a new man. Are you saved?

Have a blessed week ahead!