Old Roadways

My past is like an old roadway
Filled with much debris.
Like dead animals and broken furniture
Much like dead broken dreams.
Like parts from an old rusty Ford,
Scattered all across the way.
Like limbs fallen off sad old trees,
Leaving slithering stains across the beaten roadway.

Each one represents some despair, some hurt,
Here and there and everywhere.
Some look and smell like oily,
Gas splattered rags.
Others like greasy, crumbled wrappers from
Long forgotten, fast food fare.
Discarded without a thought or care
In the dust of my sorry past.

I would walk timidly, slowly down these byways,
Looking all around, watching each step.
Like a soldier walking a mine-filled mound,
Wary, ever so wary, of those who entrap,
While finding delight in causing such fear and pain.
Always frightened, sounds where like thunder in my ears.
Slight movements were like the twin of night terrors,
Scaring me, while I tasted my warm salty tears.

I use to walk timidly, slowly down those streets;
Frightened, distrustful of all I would meet.
Until I met Jesus, a Savior with wounds in His hands,
And bloody stripes on His back that were set.
A Savior that listened and understood,
My past, my pain, but most of all, my shame.
With tears in His eyes, He welcomed me,
Into His comforting arms and gave me a new name

He said, "Come unto me dear, weary, battered soul,
And I will give you rest.
Come and drink of the water that is pure and clean,
That will forever quench your thirst.
Come follow me and be my little lamb,
Never will I leave you alone or unprotected.
Call my name, and believe, and you will be saved,
Never to walk down the old roadways this way again”

“Because you called my Name and believed,
Your past deeds are forgotten, the old roadways rebuilt,
For in Me, though your sins were like scarlet,
Now you are now new, and undefiled.
Pure and clean like newly fallen snow.
In Me you will find peace, joy and love,
But most of all forgiveness, acceptance and care.
Come, along with me, and walk My roadways of joy.”

And now, every day, I walk side-by-side with Him,
Down these precious streets of joy, with a thankful heart.
I have begun to skip like a trusting, gleeful child,
My heart filled with such wide-eyed wonder and awe.
My mistrust had been erased by His grace,
He removed my shame and turned my mourning to joy.
He has filled me with His promised joy and peace,
And has put my burdens at His feet.

Now when others see me, hear me and know me,
My hope is that it is Jesus they see.
I know my sorry past no longer counts, not anymore,
As I will let my past be a witness of how love and grace abounds.
It is no longer the world that shapes me now,
But the hands of the Master Potter, whose handiwork
Fashions and molds, and gently shapes me unto His own,
Ready to do His bidding, to take up His cross and go.


Originally written during a prayer/quiet time October 1995