The night was cold and dark,
The wind was wailing like a broken road.
She was quiet like winter,
and snow fell silently.
Behind her was the past,
made of chains, blood, and scars.
Thicker than the evil,
That put thousands in living death.
She couldn't stop the fear that
stings her even though she moved further
And further from the bondage that held her.
She wasn't okay,
but she pretended.
Because pretending use to be her only safety.
She was a slave,
maybe I am to?
The past is behind me,
but the reminders are still constant.
Will He come for me,
like He came for her?
The day is warm and certain.
The wind is gentle and cooling,
I become alive when you breathe into me,
And the shackles of sin have been left behind.
You have rescued me.
Jesus doesn't care what your past is. He doesn't care about the chains that once held you captive. He doesn't care how broken the road you are traveling on is. He doesn't care about the fear you face with the idea of moving forward. He knows you are just pretending to be okay when you really aren't. He comes for you anyway. He breathes into you and the baggage falls to the ground. You become alive. He rescues you.
