The ransom of the marred servant
Far beyond the bluish atlantes where the sun appears to be born, cried bitterly a solitary and sorrowful an outlander under the tumult of an unknown pier or dome. The marred servant was suffering in ominous despair great affliction. It was no small thing what he suffered; and in anguish and he painfully regretted a great and terrible despoil. It was the sting of cruel death he was feeling as the ill effects of a sinful deed.
Broken in heart and contrite in spirit he supplicated to be taken while his eyes were towards the grayish sky in a faint view of obtuse and dreadful emptiness. In abandonment and in great distress the marred servant was wayfaring escaping his fate like unto Jonah, the prophet of old. To an uncharted destination he traveled, seeking foremost to be embraced by the grace of a sudden death
Under the shadow of strange clouds, contrite with fear was the wayfarer contending with a persistent yet a still small voice that constantly rigged his ear. It replied to the outlander what to him became a divine chant “there is still time my son, there is still forgetfulness my beloved son, and yet there is pardon if you truly repent.”
The implacable justice had on the wayfarer a great claim, but it refused to charge twice for the ransom, for a stranger named Jesus of a distant century the entire debt had already canceled. When atoning in rush for the original guilt, with sorrow and grace a bypassing and unexpected stranger stopped and whispered to the wayfarer, go ye forward and sin never more.
In view of the stranger’s fiery eye sight, still in sorrow was the marred servant preparing to take again his transatlantic flight. He certainly knew that that his debt was not shallow as he looked back to say thanks to the stranger. He then thought bitter gall had the Lord’s cup had his guilt overflowed, yet he felt no release of his pain. As the stranger stooped like he kissed the wayfarer steep forehead, he felt unsoberness of pain in his chilled lips. At that moment the wayfarer knew that Jesus may have fainted with the calyx taste of his sins
Departing in deep sorrow the stranger’s presence, unaware, the marred servant touched his bright robes; at that very moment and instant he felt relieved and also free of all his worries, his guilt and his toils. But distant away he beheld his own garments with amazement, for they appeared to be tinted with much blood, the wayfarer thought that he was fatally wounded and that death had finally overcome.
It was not the blood of your body foreigner but the blood of that distant stranger that perspired blood from his pores galore in the day when he expressed to you his love. In the night just before his arrest, being sold by a friend with a kiss he was pledging for you in fervent anguish and clearing with unseen agony the cruel ransom for your sinful deed.
Broken in heart and contrite in spirit he supplicated to be taken while his eyes were towards the grayish sky in a faint view of obtuse and dreadful emptiness. In abandonment and in great distress the marred servant was wayfaring escaping his fate like unto Jonah, the prophet of old. To an uncharted destination he traveled, seeking foremost to be embraced by the grace of a sudden death
Under the shadow of strange clouds, contrite with fear was the wayfarer contending with a persistent yet a still small voice that constantly rigged his ear. It replied to the outlander what to him became a divine chant “there is still time my son, there is still forgetfulness my beloved son, and yet there is pardon if you truly repent.”
The implacable justice had on the wayfarer a great claim, but it refused to charge twice for the ransom, for a stranger named Jesus of a distant century the entire debt had already canceled. When atoning in rush for the original guilt, with sorrow and grace a bypassing and unexpected stranger stopped and whispered to the wayfarer, go ye forward and sin never more.
In view of the stranger’s fiery eye sight, still in sorrow was the marred servant preparing to take again his transatlantic flight. He certainly knew that that his debt was not shallow as he looked back to say thanks to the stranger. He then thought bitter gall had the Lord’s cup had his guilt overflowed, yet he felt no release of his pain. As the stranger stooped like he kissed the wayfarer steep forehead, he felt unsoberness of pain in his chilled lips. At that moment the wayfarer knew that Jesus may have fainted with the calyx taste of his sins
Departing in deep sorrow the stranger’s presence, unaware, the marred servant touched his bright robes; at that very moment and instant he felt relieved and also free of all his worries, his guilt and his toils. But distant away he beheld his own garments with amazement, for they appeared to be tinted with much blood, the wayfarer thought that he was fatally wounded and that death had finally overcome.
It was not the blood of your body foreigner but the blood of that distant stranger that perspired blood from his pores galore in the day when he expressed to you his love. In the night just before his arrest, being sold by a friend with a kiss he was pledging for you in fervent anguish and clearing with unseen agony the cruel ransom for your sinful deed.
Miguel Angel Tinoco Rodriguez
