by Sherri Stevens

When first strike stung
my tender cheek,
my fierce flesh forced
my spirit weak.
My seething soul
sought to repay,
my enemy
for her display.
So schemed did I
of how I might
avenge my wronged
entitled right.
For surely judgement
must prevail.
Deserved justice
must not fail.
But then God’s spirit
spoke to me
the words He cried
at Calvary.
“Forgive them for
the things they do,”
so how can vengeance
I pursue?
While yet sinners
Christ did die,
as mockers mocked
His death nearby.
So as His child
then who am I
to render my own
wrath’s reply.
But then beyond
forgiveness paid,
He offered grace
on scaled unweighed.
Life’s gracious gift,
no riches spared,
to all, His love
remains declared!
To bless not curse
to this I’m called
but then how can I
when so appalled?
As anger burns
my fields with rage,
how can my revenge
not engage?
“No mercy!” screams
my hearts desire,
consumed by my
offended fire.
But grace must reign
my temper’s course,
God’s spirit
I must not divorce.
For only love
from Him can flow
if I’m to bless
my faulted foe.
So help me God
to die to self,
and put my pride
upon your shelf.
That she might grasp
Your Grace inside,
my fleshly frame
undignified.
Then holding love
she’d walk away
blessed by my
hot-baked jar of clay.