What Mercy to be Gained

Your mercy birthed
Compassion
The moment You saw me.
How great the chasm
Of Your love;
I fail to fathom its depth.

The intricacies of Your work
Subtle yet divinely glorious.
Why do You call me as Your own;
Why when I am clothed
In wretched rags, You still say
I am Your beloved?
Your mercy knows no boundaries
As it is woven within grace and love.

My guilt was enough
To put me on the cross.
Yet, You denied me
To receive the consequence
For the recompense
Of this just cause;
Casting down Your head
As a goat readied for the slaughter.

I thought I was better 
Than Barabbas.  Now only mortified
To find his reflection
In my mirror.
He walked away in his sin,
And You died in his stead.
It was in Your death
I no longer am covered
In the blood of my shame.

Your mercy implores
My heart to know the One
Maimed on my behalf;
The One who gave to
The thief who stole from Christ.
The Offended saw the criminal
As a victim of their own fleshly demise.

How can I refuse 
Such a love
That calls me by a new name?
In repentance, I am not cast out
Because of my past,
But seated at the table
For now who I am and remain,
With a Father whose love
Birthed a mercy
Strong enough to move
The hardest of hearts
Such as mine.