THE MIRACLE OF A SHOWER

A mere wash in the bathroom, you call it
But I see it as a miracle.
You might see it so too, if you look through my spectacle.
How one slips under the spray or splash of water;
Cold, tepid or hot,
Dirty, tired, maybe grumpy
And steps out clean, fresh, feeling cool la la la la la,
Is so cool, la la, so nice…
The gentle working of a sudsy sponge
Eases off the dirt that clung to the skin
And the unhurried dribbles of clean water
Restores its pristine state.
The sponge fears not to delve
Into places hidden, dark, unseen,
Filthy and caked with grime.
It goes, with gentle, purposeful swishes
And does its job.
 
But far more amazing,
Is the shower that occurs at Calvary.
That baby shower that precedes
The rebirth of any believer.
How the blood deletes and obliterates
Every dirt, no matter how deeply emblazoned
Or how steadfastly they have clung to the soul,
Is something of an enigma.
How the hyssop and pure water reach
To every hidden depth to work cleansing and restoration
With wonder working,
Tender swooshes of boundless love,
How one walks under the spray of that shower
Flowing from Emmanuel’s side,
Filthy, unworthy
And walks out new, dripping with rivulets of
Joy ineffable,
Totally beats the miracle of any other shower.
 


 
Have you been to Jesus for a cleansing power?
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
Are you fully trusting in His grace this hour?
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
 
Are you washed… in the blood…
In the soul-cleansing blood of Lamb?…
Are your garments spotless?
Are they white as snow?
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb.
 
First stanza and refrain of popular hymn by Elisha Hoffman.
 
Dear friend, if you have experienced this shower, I bet you can relate, just take a moment out to thank our gracious redeemer. But if you cannot relate, c’mon, what are you waiting for? Hop into the bathtub of grace already. Jesus has waited for this moment for long, he loves you, who you are, what you have done regardless. He says come. As you are, come. Wounded? Come. Broken? Come. Wicked? Come. Ashamed? Come. Filthy? Come. Come to me, he says, all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I would give you rest, take my yoke upon you and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and you shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light and you shall find rest for your souls. Come wash baby. He is beckoning to you, you are his child, and now he wants you to be the sheep of his pasture. No, you cannot afford to pass on this great privilege. He died on a tree for you, 40 save 1 lash of blade laden whips for you, large nails through wrists and legs for you, Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachthani for you, Gethesmane for you, Calvary for you, death for you, a ripped curtain that separated you from the father to grant you this privilege to come to him, he rose for you, sent his spirit for you and all he asks from you is that you come. C’mon, come on, dear child.
 
Have you decided to come? If yes say this prayer by faith, believing in your heart.
 
“Lord Jesus, I come to you today. I thank for the gift of your life, death, burial and resurrection. I acknowledge you Lord as my God. I surrender the Lordship of my life to you. I confess my sins (Confess them) I admit I’m a sinner in need of grace. Lord receive me into your kingdom. Give me your holy spirit. Help me to grow in you. Thank you Lord for I know I am a new person in you. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
 
Halleluyah! If you have just said that prayer, believe me, heaven is bubbling with joy for your sake. Please send a mail to goodnessadegbola@gmail.com. Welcome into the fold, the Lord loves you dearly.
 
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