As You place Your hands on my eyes, it is the power of Your scars that burns through the layers of black ash that have been clouding my vision. Layer upon layer of deception, placed there by the enemy. No wonder I couldn’t see clearly. But now, the radiant lights beaming from Your scars are like lasers, causing the layers of deception to disintegrate. Your scars remind the enemy of what’s already been accomplished. Your scars transform my vision and now I see truth. I’m looking at everything with new eyes. I’m looking through the filter of the Cross. It’s already been done. I thought I was hoping and straining for a future victory that was unsure, but there’s no striving for future victory. There’s simply resting on the historical fact of victory already won. My new lenses are red: the color of victory, the color of truth, the color of the blood of Jesus. The clarity of vision with which I now see is astounding. Everything has fine lines and sharp edges and the confusion is gone. The helplessness is gone. Why was I scrapping around in the mud for so long? Why was I fighting battles with my own pathetic strength and wisdom? Now that I can see clearly, I ascend and take my proper seat with Christ, the Victor, my King, and look down below at the fray I was once consumed with. The muck of deception, the mire of striving, the mud of defeat. I see now that the power I thought the muck had over me was no real power at all, beyond what I chose to give it.
I shift my gaze from the fray and look to where the light was coming from. Why had I not noticed it before? The Cross was there, on a hill just above the fray, and light emanated from it in every direction. Now I could see there were others who had left the battle and were resting and reclining around it, basking in the light. As they rested in the light of the Cross, they were eating from a table that was heavy-laden with an enormous feast. They were just feet from where the battle raged on, yet they seemed to take no notice of it. There they reclined, at the foot of the cross, eating and drinking and resting to their heart’s content. Their enemies kept trying to throw mud or shoot arrows at them, but for those resting in the light of the Cross, the mud and the arrows couldn’t touch them. There was an invisible shield that protected each one who chose to rest there. They were laughing and lighthearted, and though the battle raged on around them, they were behaving as if they’d already won.
And they had.
And I have.
Because He won.
It is finished.
All my fears, all my sin, all my sickness, all my addiction…