a love that isn't afraid to bleed

a poem


A late Saturday night turns into sleepy Sunday mornings

Holding our Bibles like an accessory while our coffee does our real mission

I’m wondering if we’re missing something, I wonder if something is clouding our vision

Because while we sing these hymns with cavalier empty hearts

there are people in other nations

Dying to raise their hands, and indeed they will.


I wonder how we can worship our Lord so still,

When people in other places, fear streaked across their faces,

Risk their lives to get a glimpse of the Jesus we’ve made a hobby.


He must increase, I must decrease

until it gets in the way of my life plan,

If we were honest we don’t want to risk, we’d rather be safe

Than be like Daniel in the lion’s den.

Abraham was ready to KILL his son,

he didn’t know that God would spare him,

he lifted up his knife

in sacrifice,

a faith that isn’t afraid to bleed.


 See, I wonder if we have it all wrong, Christianity isn’t pretty.

We dress in our best and smile as if the Cross had glitter on it.

Are we all reading the same gospel?

We paint out our Bible stories with primary colors

And say that we’ll pray for our sisters and brothers.


If you listen to our worship

it says that we want to be led deeper than our feet could ever wander,

But a slight amount of discomfort brings us back from 2 inches farther 



We give Judas such a hard time in the narrative,

But can’t we all be him?

Kissing Jesus on his cheek for 30 pieces of silver

See, we do the same,

We show him just enough affection for some personal gain

Terrified to actually walk with Him

In fear of being shaken

He wasn’t afraid to bleed for us, right?

Tell me if I’m mistaken.


We trade him our abundant everlasting salvation

For some casual intentional Jesus conversation.

We check our boxes and count our losses,

Forgetting the eternal weight of it all.

We shake our fists at a quiet Savior

Expecting God to speak through a closed Bible.


I think our faiths would really be made stronger

If we spent a little longer

Actually reading and believing the Word of God

As truth.



Because when we become numb to the gospel

We can forget what this whole life is for.

But with Jesus we can live life abundant,

He’s not in the business of keeping score.

Paul is writing letters in prison while

We’re here with our middle-class living

And small-talk conversation that barely grazes the surface.


The estimation is that more Christians have been killed for their faith

More in the past one hundred years

Than in the previous 1,900 combined.

There are other countries where you cannot praise His name,

Without the fear of dying.

Can we, I can’t, even imagine,

When we’re asking for prayer requests for busyness,

What that should even mean to us.


I’m sorry, I just want to bring it up,

We don’t all have to be martyrs to act out our faith,

It’s true.

But we at least have to die to ourselves

And open our mouths

And stop acting like we live in a country

where the name of Jesus is illegal.



Ironically, we’ve become professionals at safe,

When Jesus’ grace

Is the most radical thing we’ve ever seen

Maybe we should start loving our God

With a love that isn’t afraid to bleed