When I was saved,
Jesus did not take me in His arms.
He trampled me under His feet,
a death befitting his greatest enemy.
When I was saved,
Christ did not wash me clean with His blood.
He smashed every bone of truth in my body–
everything hard, rigid and brittle–
until I ran like holy wine beneath His soles,
absorbed into the dirt firmament of Heaven
(for I was no longer there to call the earth anything but Heaven).
When I was saved,
there was no more “I” to be saved.
Only I AM remained.
Everything beautiful started then.
Not One, Not Two 