Ransomed

One of my passions is drama. There's something about the way it tugs at the heart that is just magical. I guess, spiritual. I read about a drama in another blog, and it's just so awesome and really got me thinking, even without having seen it. (Plus, I keep mulling it over in my head in case the time is ever right to bring it to my home church.)

This drama has people coming across the stage, carrying a sign proclaiming their woundedness.
"18 years of addiction and sin"
"unbearable grief"
"childless and discouraged"

Then, (I assume after some lesson on redemption), they turn their signs over. On the other side is written a message of ransom.
"5 years of joy, peace, and forgiveness"
"indescribable joy"
"blessed by adoption"

It's powerful. And it makes me wonder - what would be on my sign? What would be on your sign? Does Jesus have a sign? I'm sure He does.

Perhaps my sign might say "23 years of bondage and imprisonment." Maybe it'd be "abused and abandoned." Or "Shame and Self-Contempt."

But I know that on the other side, it would say "Ransomed." For I have been redeemed, bought back, restored.

When I began this blog a few days ago, after years of blogging about pain and misery, my minister told me that being ransomed is all about having that which was taken from you brought back. Rather, given back by the One who has the authority to take away and to give.

I am finding this already to be true in my new life, my new birth that is coming about. Yesterday, I saw the doctor. Last year at about this time, she was able to tell, in no uncertain terms, the abuse I had suffered at the hands of man. My body was ravaged, damaged in such an obvious way that there were no questions left. This year, at the same time, the damage has all but vanished. There are still some signs, but there is purity being restored in a way that, honestly, I cannot explain nor describe. It's a glorious, beautiful feeling.

I don't think it matters any more what the front of my sign would say. All that is important is when it is flipped over. The back makes no sense without the front, but it also wipes the front clean.

As I sit in purity, in quiet reflection, I feel ransomed.

How do you feel? What's your sign?