Somedays I find it hard to believe anyone would feel mercy towards me. This is when I find a savior inside my own words. Jesus, a name, a power. A powerful name. In context nothing can stand against it. Out of context it can tear what it ultimately stands for apart. Heretical prophets stand out the most - yet seemingly in a good way. They offer the easier path, in this world we follow not love but hate. But Jesus' path is one of love, one that is solemnly encroached upon by the strife and pain which so envelops our lives it becomes commonplace.

We grab for one evil while looking at the truth. Our lives are continually tainted, for we cannot seem to merely focus on one thing. Striving for treasure, while giving God all our money. Asking Him to cleanse us, while offering our bodies as whores. We are a split people.

But there is a redemption. A name, above all names, with power beyond all earthly powers. A name which was spat upon but reigned before all creation. A name which was praised, then loathed. A name which belongs to the only person whom death could not eat. A name which belongs to a person so mighty, he became weak. A name which belongs to a person who let us fall, in order to pick us up. A person who loves us, for in His sight we have no sin. He carries it for us, and we have it no longer. We are forgiven. I am forgiven.

You are forgiven.

He is savior. He is Lord. King. Redeemer. Keeper. Holder of the Keys of Death. He is no longer dead. In the grave He is not found, for He embodies life.

Jesus is that name which my lips must scream. Which I cannot help but procalim. For He has taken me up, to rest in his restlessness. He never stopped striving to keep me. He never stops loving me, even when I see myself as unlovable.

He is love. Jesus is love.