Woe is Me, For I Am Undone!

Like Jonah outside the gates of Nineveh,
I hear a desperate sinner cry out for mercy. 

Like Jonah, I'd rather he not be forgiven. 

A white supremacist, 

Spouting bigotry and misogyny,

Swastikas and confederate flags on arms gone frail.

A body dying, slowly,

Flesh wasting away alongside his dignity. 

He was scared.

I was scared, too. 

Scared what it might mean

To walk him down the Romans road

Or teach him his ABCs.

He'd already admitted he was a sinner needing a savior;

He was struggling to believe.

He needed to confess.

He felt the weight of his sins and his hate,

Buckling under the burden of his guilt. 

Just like Jonah I was struggling to find mercy.

Is God's grace big enough even for this?

Before I could refuse to bear witness to him, 

He bore witness to me. 

I saw the face of Christ, emaciated and terrified. 

I felt the warmth of his love radiating

From behind sunken eyes.

Damascus. 

I fell to my knees and declared myself unworthy. 

Then the coal touched my lips and I knew.

I knew God's compassion was there.

I knew forgiveness was at hand. 

It was the last time we spoke,

But someday we'll meet again.