Skinscraper Jesus

It was a wooden go-cart. Kids down the street had built it; all wood with rope pulleys to turn the wheels.  I jumped in at the top of the hill. Began my descent.  Rope pulleys are not precise, and precision comes with practice.  I careened downhill, pulled the rope and over corrected.  Over the go-cart went taking me along with it.  Knees bloodied and full of black-top.  

In life time and trial scrape away façade so that you’re living skin to skin.  Life with Jesus is like this---He’s both friend and skin-scraper.  At the outset this was my jumbled idea of who God is. Him who created the stars but knew me by name.  Wrathful god with stern standard.  Suffering savior dying for my sin and shame; genie that would do what I want (if I did the right thing).  Top this with the naivete that youth brings; I expected little skin scraping.

Life’s turns come quick.  Slowly I saw how little control I had.  Friends with cancer, foolishness in friendships and fatal flaws that I’d not seen scraped heart against the macadam.  And in that scraping a funny thing happened.  God put on flesh.  He became; more friend and flesh; less religion.  The Skin Scraper was connecting; skin to skin, flesh-to-flesh.  And so it goes on still this wonderful scraping.

"For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord,
my confidence since my youth."