Saturday, March 26, 2016
Blood marked the doors
of God’s chosen clan-
A small group of people-
sixty and ten
that grew to a number
From doom and death to be free again.Half a shekel to each soul of man.
A bloody ransom made silver stands. To support the tent where he met with them.
Creditors knock, shadows encroach with incessant jeers of hateful reproach.
to claim its spoil.
But His blood now covers
the door of my soul.
Crimson blots pages
of my sinful account.
Sin and death
are forever denounced.
I’m bought and hidden;
no longer in debt.
Only to Jesus am I living in Red.
Remember the Sacrifice
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