A Rare Opportunity

So this semester I needed one more elective for graduation. I chose creative writing. Sounded fun... not too hard and hey I don't hate writing, especially when I get to make it up. It has turned out to be my favorite class by far. This past week we had an assignment to write a poem or monologue from the view point of someone who was a side character in a main historical event. I chose to write about Mary. Now keep in mind that by this point I have been able to establish that none of my class mates ( except maybe one...not sure though) and clearly not my professor are believers. So I ran with the opportunity to throw the gospel in there somehow. So i decided to write about Mary and her perspective on the crucifixion. Now as I wrote this I was thinking man this is going to inevitably be cliche... but it was on my heart to write it so I knew it was what God wanted me to do and I left the cliche factor in His hands. So yesterday was our workshop day. They got to my poem ( you don't know who's poem is who's until the end of work shopping/ critiquing the poem). So a girl read mine out loud... then silence... I was like ohhhhhh no. They are going to destroy this. Oh and funny enough right before my poem was a poem that was about how jospeh really hated Jesus and didn't think He was the messiah and my teacher had just explained how there were many messiahs. So just imagine that as the back drop. Anways after about a minute of silence a girl spoke up and said, "wow.... this is so not cliche". Needless to say I let out a deep breath. Then my professor took off his glasses and looked up and said... "this is absolutely incredible, I would have never in my entire writing career have ever attempted to write about this topic... it's impossible not to be cliche... but this, wow, this pulled it off perfectly. This poem is deep, full of heavy sentences, beautiful portraying a heavy topic in history. This is so not cliche. I don't know how you did it, but this is amazing." I was like ohhhh praise you Lord. Other people spoke up and said how this was so refreshing because it was so not typical and not coy. No one could belive how non typical and non cliche it was. I seriously wanted to shout Praise God in class.... but obviuosly that would have not really been so appropriate at that moment. SO when everyone was done talking they found out I wrote it and I got to talk abotu it for a minute. So i just said that I am not a writer... like I don't consider this a hobby, so I had to pick something I was passionate about and just go with it. I also just restated the gospel again and explained a line in my poem abotu how Jesus took on all our sin and at that point since God is perfectly holy He could not have relationship at that point with Christ and He had to turn His face away. I just said this is very real to me so it came out real on paper. They were ver appreciative of my honesty.

I mean how often do you get to do that in a large secular school. present the gospel to your entire non believeing class... wow. God is so gracious to give us those opportunities. Needless to say I was so humbled. I am so thankful God lets us go along as He spreads truth. Now I realize that none of thos people may ever think about that poem and its truth again... but that is in God's hands. And He is Sovereign. I am just a servant He chose to use to present His story via a poem to a dark class. What a privledge.
Humbled Servant,
RJ

Oh here is a copy of them poem. A girl also asked me to bring her one to keep. Pretty cool.

Without being asked I was chosen for this
To see you betrayed by a friend with a kiss
And I bite my tongue as I look at the smirk
On the face of the guard as he does his work.
The hammer is swung and the nail goes in
As You bear the burden and sting of my sin
On Your perfect shoulders the weight of it all
The sorrow the shame the curse of the fall.
The breath has been taken the guilt has been borne
The veil and the gap I’ve created is torn.
A babe with a face that could bring such a smile
Is the face that I see when I look at my child
As the cross is brought down and the death tomb is sealed
At this point what is a mother to feel?
My Savior was once the child that I held
In a manger with cattle and horses we dwelled.
Now here I must watch as Your Father could not
As You open the way to the God I have sought.
Three days three days I kept telling myself
And this ache in my heart will no longer be felt
As the world will see the truth I have known
And the child I once carried now carries me home.