Crucified Love, Resurrected Mission. Poetry

We are saved in Christ—yes, fully, truly, eternally—

but salvation was never meant to end with us.

Grace is a beginning, not a finish line,

a doorway, not a couch to collapse on.

He died a man of courage,

love stretched out on timber,

blood speaking louder than our excuses.

We confess, repent, receive—

but then what?

Saved… for what?

He loved us enough to be crucified.

Do we love Him enough

to be sanctified?

To lay down our comfort,

our pride,

our silence,

our self‑preserving ways?

Maybe we love Him enough to be rescued,

but not enough to be sent.

Enough to be forgiven,

but not enough to feed His sheep.

Enough to claim His name,

but not enough to carry His cross.

A church alive in the Resurrection

does not hide behind its own salvation.

It reaches for the lost,

the wandering,

the breaking,

the ones going mad under the weight of this world.

It carries the Risen One

into the places where death still thinks it reigns.

Put the C back in the Great Commission—

Christ, Cruciform, Calling,

the Commission that costs something.

Because when we omit the cross,

we omit the Christ.

And when we omit the Christ,

we omit the mission.

We are saved—

but saved to serve.

Saved to love.

Saved to go.

Saved to die to ourselves

so others may live in Him.

This is the road.

Hard, holy, narrow,

but filled with resurrection light.