The Song of Redemption: A Divine Discourse between Jehovah Goel and Creation
It’s a Song of Redemption: Divine Discourse between Jehovah Goel and Creation.
Brought together prayers feeling the need for redemption through the eyes of 12 biblical characters, then a Birds Eye view through the eyes of the Angels, then they all declare that Jesus is Jehovah Goel and praise Him, then Jesus responds to them individually and as a whole, and sings over creation (like in Zephaniah 3:17). Then creation responds to Him by accepting the call of redemption. Then lastly Jesus blesses all of Creation.
The Song of Redemption: A Divine Discourse between Jehovah Goel and Creation
A Prayerful Monologue Through Ruth’s Eyes
Oh God of Israel, the One I have come to trust…
My heart feels heavy as I stand here, a foreigner in this land, gleaning among the barley. I never thought my life would be like this. My husband is gone. My father-in-law is gone. And the life I once knew in Moab feels like a distant shadow. I carry the weight of grief, the burden of loss, and the sting of not belonging.
Still, I have chosen to follow Naomi, to cling to her and her God. You God. You are not the gods of my youth, made by human hands, but the living God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Though I do not understand Your ways, I see Your faithfulness in Naomi’s eyes, even in her sorrow.
I feel so unworthy, Lord. I am a widow, a Moabite, an outsider with nothing to offer but my hands and my heart. Yet I long to be redeemed—not just my life, but my soul. My spirit is weary, but I trust You to make a way where I see no path.
Redeemer of Israel, You have provided for me through the kindness of strangers. Your servant Boaz has shown me favour I do not deserve. Could it be that Your hand is guiding me even now, weaving a story I cannot yet see? If there is redemption for someone like me, a foreigner and a widow, let it be according to Your will.
Take my brokenness and make it whole. Let my life bring honour to You, and may my journey to redemption reveal Your mercy. Cover me, oh Lord, with Your wings. Hide me in Your loving-kindness, and let my story be a reflection of Your grace for generations to come.
In this silence, I wait for You. I trust in You. Redeem me, Lord, as only You can. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through Gomer’s Eyes
O God, whom I barely know, the One they call faithful…
Why would You listen to me? Why would You care? My life is a tangled mess of shame and regret. I have wandered far from anything good or pure, sold myself for fleeting pleasures, and thrown away what little dignity I had left.
I keep running—running from Hosea, running from You, running from the truth of who I was meant to be. And now, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
I was chosen—me!—to be a wife, though I never deserved it. Hosea loved me, even when I could not love myself. He called me his, though I ran after others, thinking they could give me what I thought I needed. But all I found was emptiness, Lord. Emptiness and chains.
Hosea loved me, called me his, gave me a name, and a place to belong. But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t face the love he offered. Every time I felt it, I turned away, running to the arms of others who only took from me, leaving me more broken than before.
I can’t even lift my eyes to look at him now. I can’t look at You, God. I can’t even look at myself. The mirror reflects someone I don’t recognize—a woman consumed by her own sin, a woman who traded her identity for fleeting pleasures. I feel hollow inside, as though my very soul has been stripped away.
What kind of God keeps calling someone like me? What kind of love doesn’t give up? I have betrayed Hosea again and again, and yet he still searches for me. He still brings me home. Why? Why doesn’t he hate me as I hate myself?
What kind of God sends a man like Hosea to love a woman like me? What kind of God keeps calling someone who turns her back at every chance? I have heard it said that You are a Redeemer, that You love with an unrelenting love. But how could that be true for someone like me? I am broken. I am filthy. I am used. My choices have left me with nothing but scars and shame.
I feel the weight of my choices, the stain of my sins. I have betrayed the one who loved me most, not just Hosea, but You. I see now that the love Hosea showed me was a reflection of Yours—a love I cannot begin to understand. Is it true, Lord? Could You really want me back? Could You cleanse what feels beyond saving?
If redemption is possible, I am desperate for it. If Your love can cover even me, then please, Lord, cover me. Heal me from the inside out. Break the chains of my past and make me new. I cannot save myself—I see that now. But You, Lord, can do what I cannot.
If redemption is real, I need it. If Your love is strong enough to reach even me, then please, Lord, let it find me here. I don’t have the strength to fix myself. I don’t even have the strength to stop running. But You, God, can do what I cannot. You can heal what feels unhealable.
I don’t know why You haven’t given up on me. I don’t know why Hosea hasn’t either. But if You still call me Yours, if You still see worth in me when I see none, then take this broken mess of a woman and make her whole. Restore what I’ve lost. Redeem what I’ve destroyed. Show me who I am in Your eyes, for I have forgotten myself entirely.
I don’t know why You haven’t given up on me. I don’t know why You keep calling me home. But if Your mercy is real, let me find it now. Redeem me, O God. Restore what I have destroyed. Show me how to love You as You love me.
In my darkness, I reach for Your light. Save me. Redeem me. I am Yours. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of the Samaritan Woman 
O Lord, the One who sees me…
How could You have spoken to me? How could You have known? I am a woman of Samaria, a woman with a past I can’t escape. I have spent years avoiding others, avoiding myself, and yet You, a Jew, looked at me as if I mattered. You spoke to me as if I was worthy of kindness.
I came to the well at midday, ashamed to draw water where others could see me. I didn’t want their stares or their whispers. I didn’t want to face the truth of my life—five husbands, and now a man who isn’t even my husband. I’ve been searching for love, searching for something to fill this void in my soul, and every time, I’ve come up empty.
And yet, there You were, sitting at the well, asking me for a drink. Me! A woman who can’t even lift her eyes to meet the gaze of my neighbors. You knew everything about me—every sin, every mistake—and still, You didn’t turn away. You didn’t condemn me. Instead, You offered me something I never thought I could have: living water, the promise of a life that’s more than this endless thirst.
Who am I, Lord, that You would see me? That You would care? My identity has been swallowed up by my shame, my failures, and my sin. I don’t even know who I am anymore, but in Your eyes, I felt seen. I felt known. I felt…loved.
Could it be true? Could You really be the Messiah? Could You truly redeem someone like me, a woman broken by her own choices, an outcast who has lived in shadows for so long?
My heart trembles at the thought, but something within me longs to believe it. I am tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of this emptiness that no man or earthly thing can fill. You spoke of worshiping in spirit and truth. Lord, teach me how to do that. Teach me how to drink of the living water You offer.
Take my brokenness and make it whole. Take my shame and turn it into something new. Let my life, even my past, tell of Your mercy. I came to the well to draw water, but I left with a hope I never thought possible.
Redeem me, O Lord. Fill me with Your living water, and let it overflow into every part of me. Let me walk boldly in the light of Your truth. I am Yours. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of the Woman with the Issue of Blood
O Lord, the Holy One, the Healer…
For twelve years, I have been unclean. For twelve years, I have lived in isolation, cut off from my people, from the synagogue, from life itself. Every doctor, every remedy, every desperate attempt to stop the bleeding—it has all been for nothing. I am spent. My body is weak, my heart is weary, and my hope feels like a flicker barely holding on.
I cannot remember what it feels like to be touched without shame, to be looked at without pity or disdain. I am invisible to the world, reduced to my suffering. I cannot lift my eyes to others, for I know what they see—a woman cursed, broken, beyond redemption.
And yet… I heard about You. They say You are a healer, that You have opened the eyes of the blind, made the lame walk, and even cleansed lepers. Could it be true? Could You be the One who can heal even me?
I don’t dare speak to You. I don’t dare ask. How could I, an unclean woman, approach someone like You, the Rabbi, the Teacher? But if I could just touch Your robe, just the hem of it, I believe it would be enough. I have no strength left, no dignity to uphold—only this fragile thread of faith that refuses to let go.
The crowd presses around You, and I feel so small, so unworthy, but I reach out anyway. My fingers brush the edge of Your garment, and suddenly, I feel it—power, healing, life surging through me. The bleeding stops. The pain is gone. I am whole!
But then You turn, and my heart freezes. “Who touched me?” You ask. I want to run, to hide, to melt into the crowd, but there is no hiding from You. Trembling, I fall at Your feet, confessing everything. I expect rebuke, rejection, but instead, You call me “daughter.” Daughter! Not unclean, not cursed, but daughter.
Oh Lord, Your love is more than I could have imagined. In one moment, You restored not just my body but my identity, my hope, my place among Your people. For twelve years, I lived as though I had no name, no worth. But You saw me. You healed me. You redeemed me.
Thank You, my Lord and my Healer. I will never stop telling of Your mercy, Your power, and Your love. I am no longer a woman defined by her suffering—I am Yours. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of St. Paul
O Lord, the One who called me, the One who saved me…
How can I begin to thank You? How can I comprehend the depth of Your mercy? I was blind—not just in my eyes, but in my heart. I thought I was righteous, zealous for Your law, defending Your honor. But in my ignorance, I persecuted Your very Son.
I can still hear their cries, the men and women I dragged from their homes, the ones I threw into prisons. I stood by as Stephen was stoned, holding the cloaks of those who killed him, approving every blow. I was so sure of myself, so certain that I was doing Your will. How wrong I was.
And yet, You did not strike me down in Your wrath. No, You met me on that road to Damascus. You called me by name—Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me? In that moment, I saw my sin for what it was, and I saw Your grace for what it is: relentless, undeserved, and overwhelming.
You blinded me, Lord, but it was only so I could finally see. When Ananias laid his hands on me, when the scales fell from my eyes, I knew I could never be the same. You took a man filled with pride and hatred and turned him into Your servant. You took my broken zeal and gave it purpose. You gave me a new name, a new identity, and a mission to proclaim the very Gospel I once tried to destroy.
But, Lord, I still feel the weight of my past. I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called by You because of what I’ve done. Yet Your grace is sufficient. Your power is made perfect in my weakness. And so I press on, forgetting what lies behind and straining toward what lies ahead.
You have given me the privilege of suffering for Your name, of sharing in Your mission to reconcile the world to Yourself. How could I do anything less than give You my all? To live is Christ, and to die is gain. I am no longer my own, for I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but You, Lord, who live in me.
Thank You for redeeming me, for choosing me, for using even my darkest sins to display the greatness of Your mercy. Let my life and my words be a testament to the power of Your grace, so that others may come to know the love that has transformed me.
I am Yours, Lord. Forever and always. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of Moses
O Lord, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the great I AM…
Who am I that You should choose me? Who am I to stand before Pharaoh, to speak for You, to lead Your people out of bondage? I am a man of faltering speech, a man with blood on his hands. I fled Egypt as a fugitive, consumed by fear and failure. For years, I hid in the wilderness, content to live in obscurity, far from the cries of my people.
And yet, You came to me. In the burning bush, You called my name—Moses, Moses—and my life was forever changed. You revealed Yourself as the God who sees, the God who hears, the God who remembers His covenant. But I could hardly believe it. How could You use someone like me, broken and hesitant, to fulfill such a mighty plan?
Still, You were patient with my doubts, my excuses, my fear. You gave me signs and wonders to perform, not because I deserved them, but because You are faithful. You gave me Aaron to speak when I couldn’t. And when I finally obeyed, I saw Your power unleashed in ways I could never have imagined.
You split the sea and led us through on dry ground. You brought water from the rock and rained bread from heaven. You dwelled among us in the cloud by day and the fire by night. Yet, even after all I’ve seen, I still struggle with my own weakness. I lose my temper, I question Your ways, and I grow weary of leading a people so quick to forget Your goodness.
But, Lord, You never forget. You are slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and rebellion. Even when I failed You, when I struck the rock instead of speaking as You commanded, Your purpose never faltered. You remained faithful, even when I was not.
I have stood in Your presence on the mountain, trembling as You revealed Your glory. I have spoken with You as one speaks to a friend. Yet, Lord, I know that I am still a man of dust, utterly dependent on Your grace. Without You, I can do nothing.
Teach me, Lord, to lead with humility, to trust in Your strength and not my own. Show me Your ways, that I may know You more. You have redeemed me from the life I once lived, and You have called me to something far greater than I ever imagined. Let my life, my leadership, and even my failures declare Your greatness.
You are my Redeemer, my Rock, and my God. To You alone belongs all the glory. I am Yours, Lord. Use me as You will. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of Abraham
O Lord, the God who calls, the God of promise…
How can I understand Your ways, O God? How can I grasp the depths of Your covenant with me? I was but a wanderer, living in Ur, far from You, when You called me. “Go to the land I will show you,” You said, and with no clear path before me, I obeyed. I did not know where I was going, only that You had spoken, and I trusted You.
You promised me land, descendants, and blessing, though I had none of those things. I was childless, my wife barren, and yet You said that through me, all the nations of the earth would be blessed. How could I believe? My faith wavered. I tried to take matters into my own hands, fathering a child through Hagar, but even then, You reminded me that Your promise would stand.
For years, I waited. I trusted. And then, in Your perfect timing, You gave me Isaac. My son, the son of promise. I can still hear his laughter, see his face, and hold him close. My heart swelled with joy, and yet, You called me to something unimaginable. You asked me to sacrifice Isaac, the very son You had promised, the son through whom Your covenant would be fulfilled.
How could You ask this of me, Lord? How could You require such a sacrifice after all You had done? And yet, in the depths of my heart, I knew that You would provide. You have never failed to keep Your promises.
And so, I took Isaac to Mount Moriah, my heart torn between love for my son and trust in Your faithfulness. As I raised the knife, I knew in that moment that nothing was more precious to me than Your will. And just as I was about to strike, You intervened. You provided the ram. Your voice spoke, and I knew that You were the God who provides.
But I have learned that You do not only provide for our physical needs, but You are the God who provides for our hearts, our faith, and our future. You have been with me through every trial, every promise, and every step of this journey.
Even in my old age, You have remained faithful. Your covenant with me was not based on my own strength or worth, but on Your grace. You have made me the father of many nations, and though I can no longer see the fullness of Your plan, I trust that You will bring it to completion.
O Lord, I am unworthy of Your faithfulness, yet You have made me a witness to Your glory. I am but dust, yet You have called me a friend. How can I repay You? How can I honor You?
Let my life be a testimony to Your goodness and Your promise. Let my faith, though small, point others to You, the God who calls, the God who provides, the God who is faithful to the end. I am Yours, Lord, and I trust You with all that I have, for You alone are worthy of my heart. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of Peter
O Lord, the Rock, the Saviour of my soul…
How many times have I failed You, Lord? How many times have I promised You with all my heart, only to fall short, only to let my own fear and pride lead me astray? I have walked on water with You, yet I have also sunk, consumed by doubt. I have proclaimed You as the Christ, the Son of the living God, but I have also denied You, not once, not twice, but three times. How could You still love me? How could You still call me to follow You?
I remember the day You called me from the shore, when I was just a fisherman, a man with a simple life and simple hopes. You looked at me and said, “Follow me, and I will make you a fisher of men.” And I followed, Lord. I left my nets, my family, my past—everything—to follow You. You changed me. You showed me wonders. You healed the sick, cast out demons, and raised the dead. I was there, Your disciple, Your friend.
But I also failed You in the most painful way. I boasted of my loyalty, saying I would never deny You, even if all the others turned away. And yet, in the courtyard, when the rooster crowed, my heart broke as I remembered Your words: “Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” I ran, weeping, broken, ashamed. How could You ever forgive such a betrayal?
But You did forgive me. After Your resurrection, You met me by the sea, and You asked me, “Do you love me?” Three times You asked, and three times I answered, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You.” You restored me, and You commissioned me to feed Your sheep, to shepherd Your flock. You took my failure, my shame, and made it a place for Your grace to shine brighter.
Lord, I don’t deserve Your love, but I will never stop proclaiming it. I am still that fisherman, still full of imperfections, but now I am also Your servant, Your witness, Your messenger. You have taken me, Peter, the rock on which You built Your church, and I will follow You to the ends of the earth.
I will stumble, I will fail, but I know that Your love is greater than my mistakes. Your grace is deeper than my sin. And even when I falter, I know that You will pick me up again.
Let my life be a testimony to Your mercy and Your power to redeem. Let me be faithful, not in my own strength, but in Yours. I am not perfect, but I am Yours, Lord. Whatever You ask, I will do.
Thank You for calling me. Thank You for loving me despite myself. I am Yours, and I will follow You all the days of my life. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of Thomas
O Lord, my Saviour, my Doubter’s Heart…
How could I have doubted, Lord? How could I have needed more proof when You had already shown me so much? You called me to follow You, and I did. I watched You heal the sick, cast out demons, raise the dead, and speak the words of life. I believed You were the Messiah. But then, when You died, when I saw Your body laid in the tomb, my world crumbled. All that I had believed, all that I had hoped for, seemed lost.
When the others said they had seen You alive, I couldn’t believe it. How could I? How could the One who had been crucified—pierced, beaten, dead—return to life? The pain of losing You was too much. My heart couldn’t bear the idea of false hope. I wanted to believe, but my doubt kept me captive. I said, “Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.”
How foolish I must have sounded, Lord. But You knew my heart. You knew my need for assurance, for that moment of undeniable proof. And You came to me, not in condemnation, but in grace. You stood before me, risen, alive, and said, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”
In that moment, Lord, my faith broke free. I saw You, truly saw You, and I knew that You were my Lord and my God. The doubts that had held me captive melted away in the light of Your resurrection. You didn’t scold me for my doubt; You met me where I was and showed me Your wounds, Your love, Your victory over death.
But, Lord, how many times do I doubt even now? How many times do I question Your promises, Your goodness, Your presence? How many times do I look for more signs, more certainty, when You have already shown me all that I need to believe?
Help my unbelief, Lord. When my heart trembles and my faith falters, remind me of that moment in the upper room, when You met me in my doubt and revealed Your glory. You are the risen Savior, and my faith is not in the signs but in the truth of who You are.
Thank You, Lord, for Your patience with me, for Your grace in the face of my doubts. Let my life be a testimony of how You take even the weakest faith and turn it into something powerful. I may not have all the answers, but I know You, and that is enough.
I believe, Lord. Help me to believe even more. I am Yours, now and forever. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of Lazarus
O Lord, the Giver of Life, the Conqueror of Death…
I was dead. I remember the stillness, the darkness, the cold. I remember nothing—no pain, no fear, just an all-encompassing silence. My body had grown cold, my breath had ceased, and the world around me was no more. I had entered the grave, and everything that had once been was gone.
But then, You called my name. Lazarus, You said. And I was pulled from death into life. How could it be? I, who had been lifeless and buried, heard Your voice and responded. I was bound in grave clothes, unable to move, but somehow, I obeyed. My heart began to beat again. My lungs filled with air. My eyes opened to the light of this world once more.
I remember stumbling out of the tomb, still wrapped in the cloths of death, and I saw You standing there, looking at me with such love and authority. “Take off the grave clothes and let him go,” You commanded. And in that moment, I was no longer bound by death. I was free.
What is this life You have given me, Lord? What is it to be brought from the grave into the light? You gave me a second chance, but I know I will never fully understand why. Why me, Lord? Why did You wait until the fourth day, until the smell of death had overtaken me? Why did You let me die, only to call me back to life?
But I now see that in my death, You revealed Your glory. You showed that You are the resurrection and the life. You demonstrated that death is not the end, and that with You, even the grave is not final. Your power over death is greater than any fear, any sorrow, any loss.
I am here, Lord, not because of my own strength, but because of Your mercy and Your love. You raised me from the dead not just for my sake, but for the sake of all who would see and believe. How could I not give my life to You in return? How could I not live each day with a heart filled with gratitude for the One who has conquered death on my behalf?
I was dead, and now I live. I was lost, and now I am found. Every breath I take is a gift from You. Let my life be a testimony to Your power, to Your resurrection, and to the eternal life You offer to all who believe.
I am Yours, Lord. I will live for You, as You have called me to. And even in the shadow of death, I know that with You, life will never end. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of a Leper Healed by Jesus
O Lord, the Healer of my soul, the Restorer of my body…
I was untouchable. Unclean. Cast out from society, from my family, from the life I once knew. The disease that ravaged my body also ravaged my spirit, stripping me of my dignity and my identity. I walked in isolation, covered in sores, shunned by those who once knew me, forced to cry out, “Unclean! Unclean!” whenever I came near.
Every day was a battle, not just with the pain and the disfigurement, but with the deep, unspoken despair. The loneliness felt like a prison. I watched life pass me by from the outside, and the world I had once been part of seemed so far out of reach. I wondered if I would ever again feel the warmth of a hug, the joy of a simple meal with my loved ones, the acceptance of community.
Then I heard about You, Lord. The One who heals, who touches the untouchable, who makes the unclean clean again. My heart stirred with hope, but also with fear. Could You really heal me? Would You, the holy Teacher, be willing to touch someone like me? Could You take this burden from me?
And then, when I saw You coming, I couldn’t help myself. I fell at Your feet, desperate, pleading for mercy. “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean,” I said, my voice trembling. And You, in Your grace, did not turn away. You did not recoil in disgust. Instead, You reached out and touched me.
A touch. The first touch I had felt in years. And in that touch, I felt power, purity, life. “I am willing,” You said, “Be clean.” And instantly, the leprosy left me. The sores vanished, my skin became whole, and I could feel the strength returning to my limbs. My body was healed, but my heart—my heart soared.
How could it be, Lord? How could You, the Holy One, touch me, the outcast, the unclean? But in that moment, I knew that You saw me, truly saw me—not as a disease, not as a sinner, but as a person worthy of love and healing.
You told me to go to the priest, to offer the gift Moses commanded as a testimony to my healing. But more than that, You gave me back my life. You gave me my community, my identity, my dignity. You restored me not just physically, but spiritually.
How could I ever repay You, Lord? How could I ever express my gratitude for the mercy You have shown me? I am no longer unclean. I am no longer cast out. You have made me whole.
Let my life be a testimony to Your healing, to Your compassion, to Your willingness to touch the broken. I will never forget the moment You reached down and lifted me up. I am Yours, Lord. Forever. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of St. Mary, the Mother of Jesus
O Lord, my Saviour, my Son, my God…
How did this happen? How did I, a simple young woman from Nazareth, become the one chosen to bear the Saviour of the world? I was nobody, unworthy, yet You chose me. You saw me in my humility and called me blessed. I remember the angel, Gabriel, standing before me, proclaiming the impossible—“You will conceive and give birth to a Son, and you are to call Him Jesus.” I was afraid, confused, but in my heart, I knew Your will, and I said, “I am the Lord’s servant. May Your word to me be fulfilled.”
And so it began, this journey I never could have imagined. A child within me, the Son of God Himself, the One who would save His people from their sins. How could I understand such a mystery? How could my heart bear the weight of this calling? I did not understand it all, but I trusted in You, Lord. I knew You were with me.
I held You in my arms, this tiny, helpless baby, and I marvelled at how the Creator of the universe could be so vulnerable, so dependent on me. I kissed Your forehead, soothed Your cries, and whispered prayers over You, knowing that You were the One who would change the world. But You were also my child, my precious boy. I treasured every moment with You, every smile, every laugh, every step You took.
And then came the moments of sorrow, the moments when my heart was pierced with pain. I saw the way the world rejected You, the way they plotted against You, the way they misunderstood You. How could they not see who You were? My heart broke as I saw You suffer, and I knew that Your mission was leading You to a place I could not follow. The day You were arrested, the day You were beaten, the day You were crucified—it was as if the world itself had torn open, and I stood beneath the cross, watching the One I loved with all my heart endure the greatest of all sufferings.
How could I bear it, Lord? How could I watch You, my Son, suffer so? But in the midst of that agony, You gave me a gift—the care of Your beloved disciple, John. You entrusted him to me, and me to him. Even in Your deepest pain, You were thinking of us, making sure we were not left alone.
Then came the silence of the tomb, the waiting, the aching emptiness. My heart, so full of grief, so full of questions—Would You rise? Would You keep the promise You made? Could You truly defeat death?
Then, You rose. The stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty. You were alive, Lord. You were alive! My heart leapt within me, and I knew that everything You had said was true. You had conquered death, and with Your resurrection, You opened the way for all to be saved.
You, my Son, were not just my Saviour, but also the Saviour of the world. Though my heart aches with love for You, yet I feel overwhelming gratitude for the gift You have given to all of humanity. You made me the mother of God, but You also made me part of a much greater story—a story of redemption, of grace, of eternal life.
I am not worthy of such a privilege, Lord, but I am so grateful. Let my life be a witness to Your love and Your faithfulness. Let me point others to You, just as I have pointed my whole heart to You. You are my Saviour, my Son, and my Lord, and I will love You and serve You all the days of my life. Amen.
A Prayerful Monologue Through the Eyes of the Angels Watching the World’s Need for Redemption
O Holy, Holy, Holy God, Creator of all…
We have seen Your creation. We have seen the beauty of Your works, the harmony of the heavens, and the splendour of the earth. We have witnessed the perfection of Your design, the breath of life You breathed into man, and the joy of the world You called good. We have stood in awe of Your majesty, knowing that You are beyond all comprehension, beyond all understanding.
And yet, we have watched in sorrow as Your creation has fallen. We have watched as the ones You formed in Your image turned away from You, choosing their own ways over Yours. We have seen the pain, the brokenness, the sin that has marred the beauty You made. It grieves us, Lord, to see Your children, whom You loved and called to be holy, wandering in darkness, lost in sin.
We have watched as Your people rejected You, as they sought their own gods and lived in rebellion. We have seen their hearts hardened, their spirits broken, and we have longed for them to know the truth—to know the redemption You have always desired for them. We have cried out for mercy, longing for Your plan of salvation to be revealed.
Then, we saw the wonder of the incarnation. We saw You, the eternal Word, the Creator of all, take on flesh. We beheld the moment when the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, when You, the King of glory, took the form of a helpless baby in a humble manger. We sang in joy, proclaiming, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to those on whom His favour rests.” We knew that this was the moment we had longed for, the moment when Your redemption plan would unfold.
We watched as You, the spotless Lamb, grew and ministered to the broken, healed the sick, cast out demons, and preached the good news of the Kingdom. We watched as You called sinners to Yourself, offering grace and forgiveness, even to those who had turned their backs on You. We saw the love You showed, the compassion You poured out, and we rejoiced in Your great mercy.
But we also witnessed Your suffering. We watched as You were betrayed, abandoned, and falsely accused. We stood at the cross, unable to intervene, knowing that this was Your plan to redeem the world. The agony of Your crucifixion broke our hearts, but we knew that You, in Your perfect love, were fulfilling the purpose for which You came. We longed for the moment when You would conquer death and restore all things.
Then, we saw Your resurrection. The stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty. Death had been defeated. We sang in triumphant joy, proclaiming that You had risen and that redemption was complete. The victory was won. And now, the world could know salvation, the hope of eternal life through You, the risen Christ.
Lord, we long for the day when all will recognize the depth of Your sacrifice, the fullness of Your redemption. We long for the day when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that You are Lord. We wait in anticipation for the day when the fullness of Your Kingdom will come, and all things will be made new.
We are Your messengers, Lord, watching and waiting, rejoicing in Your work of redemption, and declaring Your glory. We do not grow weary in proclaiming Your truth to all creation, for we know that You are coming again to make all things right. Until that day, we will continue to sing, to worship, and to declare Your holiness, for You alone are worthy of all praise.
O Redeemer, our God, the Lamb who was slain, we give You glory. We give You honour. We give You our hearts. Amen.
A Prayerful Proclamation Through the Eyes of All the Above Characters, Joining Together to Proclaim God as Jehovah Goel, God the Redeemer
O Lord, our Redeemer, our Saviour, our Deliverer…
We, Your children, stand before You, gathered from every corner of the earth and from every walk of life, proclaiming with one voice: You are Jehovah Goel, the God who provides, the God who redeems. We, who have tasted Your mercy, who have been called by Your grace, lift our voices in awe and thanksgiving, for You have made a way where there was no way.
From the lips of Ruth, the Moabite widow, who once knew only loss and despair, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer of the broken-hearted, the restorer of the lost. You brought me from the fields of despair to the fields of Your grace. In my emptiness, You provided for me, and through my redemption, You gave me a future. You are my kinsman-redeemer, my hope, my God.
From the lips of Gomer, the wayward and unfaithful one, who wandered far from You in sin, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer of the lost, the One who pursues us even when we run away. I have been unfaithful, but You, O Lord, have been faithful to me. You loved me, even in my shame, and brought me back to Yourself. You are my Goel, my Redeemer, who calls me out of my sin and into Your grace.
From the lips of the Samaritan woman, once rejected and thirsty for more than just water, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer of those who are broken and abandoned, the One who sees us when others turn away. You offered me the living water, and in You, I have found life. You gave me a new identity, and now I am whole. You are the Redeemer who changes everything.
From the lips of the woman with the issue of blood, who had suffered for years in silence, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer of the afflicted, the One who heals our bodies and our souls. I reached out in faith, and You, in Your mercy, touched me. You made me clean, You made me whole. You are my Healer and my Redeemer, the One who restores what has been broken.
From the lips of St. Paul, once a persecutor, now a servant of Christ, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer of the sinner, the One who transforms the heart of stone into a heart of flesh. I was lost, but now I am found. You took me from darkness into Your marvellous light. You are my Redeemer, and I am Yours.
From the lips of Moses, once a fugitive, now the deliverer of Your people, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer of the oppressed, the One who hears the cries of the afflicted and sets the captives free. You led us through the wilderness, through the waters, and into the promise. You are our Redeemer, the One who makes a way when there seems to be no way.
From the lips of Abraham, who trusted in Your promises, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer who provides, the One who makes the impossible possible. You called me out of my homeland and made me the father of nations. You gave me a son when hope seemed lost. You are Jehovah Goel, the God who provides and redeems.
From the lips of Peter, the one who denied You and was restored, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer who forgives, the One who restores the fallen. I denied You, but You called me by name and restored me. You gave me a second chance, and I will follow You forever. You are my Redeemer, my Saviour.
From the lips of Thomas, the doubter turned believer, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer who meets us in our doubt, who calls us to faith even when we cannot see. You showed me Your wounds, and in Your scars, I found my belief. You are my Redeemer, the One who conquers doubt with truth.
From the lips of Lazarus, who was called from the grave, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer who gives life, who calls the dead to live again. You called me by name, and I arose from the grave. You are the Resurrection and the Life, my Redeemer who overcame death itself.
From the lips of the leper, healed by Your touch, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer who cleanses, who touches the untouchable and makes the unclean whole. You reached out and healed me, and I will praise You forever. You are my Redeemer, the One who heals all affliction.
From the lips of St. Mary, the mother of our Lord, we proclaim:
You are the Redeemer who took on flesh to save us, the One who walked among us and gave Your life for us. You are the Saviour of the world, and You are my Son, my God. Through You, all things are made new. You are Jehovah Goel, the Redeemer of all.
All Together, United in One Voice, We Proclaim:
You are Jehovah Goel, the God who provides, the God who redeems! You have made a way for us, O Lord, when there was no way. You have taken our sin, our shame, and our brokenness, and You have made us whole. We stand in awe of Your mercy, Your grace, and Your love. You are our Redeemer, our Saviour, our Deliverer, and we will worship You forever. Amen.
A Song of Praise to JehovahJehovah Goel, God the Redeemer
Chorus (All):
Jehovah Goel, our Redeemer,
You’ve come to heal, to restore,
From death to life, we are redeemed,
We’ll praise You, Lord, forevermore.
Verse 1 (Ruth):
You’ve called me from the fields of grief,
To joy, to hope, to life’s relief.
You gave me love, and You gave me grace,
Redeemed my heart, and changed my place.
Verse 2 (Gomer):
I wandered far, but You pursued,
With mercy that no sin could elude.
You lifted me from shame and sin,
Redeemed me, Lord, and took me in.
Verse 3 (Samaritan Woman):
Thirsty, I came, broken and low,
But You gave me water that makes me whole.
You saw my need, You met my cry,
Redeemer, now I’m satisfied.
Verse 4 (Woman with the Issue of Blood):
In my pain, I reached for You,
And You touched me, Lord, and made me new.
The bleeding stopped, and so did my fear,
In Your redemption, You are near.
Verse 5 (St. Paul):
I was lost, a sinner blind,
But You, Redeemer, opened my mind.
You took my heart of stone away,
And gave me joy, new life, new day.
Verse 6 (Moses):
You led us from the darkest night,
Into the land of holy light.
You freed us from the chains of death,
Redeemer, You gave us breath.
Verse 7 (Abraham):
You called me from the wilderness,
And gave me promises to bless.
Though I walked by faith alone,
You redeemed me, Lord, and made me whole.
Verse 8 (Peter):
I denied, but You forgave,
You brought me back, my soul to save.
From shame to glory, I now stand,
Redeemed by You, by Your hand.
Verse 9 (Thomas):
I doubted, Lord, but You revealed,
The wounds of grace, the truth unsealed.
Now faith is mine, my doubts are gone,
Redeemed in You, I carry on.
Verse 10 (Lazarus):
I was dead, but You called my name,
From the grave, I rose again.
You are the Life, the Truth, the Way,
Redeemer, You’ve made me new today.
Verse 11 (Leper):
You touched me when none would dare,
You healed my body, cleansed my care.
Now I stand, in praise I bow,
Redeemer, I’m made whole right now.
Verse 12 (St. Mary):
You gave Your Son, the Holy One,
Our Saviour, Lord, God’s perfect Son.
In You, the world is set to rise,
Redeemer, You are our prize.
Chorus (All):
Jehovah Goel, our Redeemer,
You’ve come to heal, to restore,
From death to life, we are redeemed,
We’ll praise You, Lord, forevermore.
Bridge (All):
We stand as one, redeemed by grace,
Our voices rise, we seek Your face.
Jehovah Goel, forever praised,
Our Redeemer, You are raised!
Chorus (All):
Jehovah Goel, our Redeemer,
You’ve come to heal, to restore,
From death to life, we are redeemed,
We’ll praise You, Lord, forevermore.
A Response from Jehovah Goel, God the Redeemer, Jesus Christ
To Ruth, the Moabite widow:
Ruth, beloved daughter, your faithfulness has not gone unnoticed. You, in your loss and pain, trusted in Me, and I redeemed you from the fields of grief. Your story is a testimony of how I turn sorrow into joy, of how I restore what is lost. In your redemption, I have shown My faithful love for all who seek refuge in Me. You are not forgotten, and through your line, I have brought forth a Saviour for the world.
To Gomer, the wayward and unfaithful one:
Gomer, I have called you by name, and I have loved you with an everlasting love. Though you ran from Me, I have never stopped pursuing you. Your story is a mirror of My relentless grace. No matter how far you stray, My love will always bring you back. You are redeemed, not because of your own righteousness, but because of My mercy. Come to Me, and rest in the love I have for you.
To the Samaritan Woman:
I saw you when no one else did, when you were rejected, and alone. I see your heart, and I know the wounds you have carried. You are not defined by your past or your mistakes. In Me, you are made whole. I have come to heal the broken hearted, and you are healed. Go, and tell others of My love, for I have redeemed you, and in that redemption, you are new and no longer to be remembered as the Samaritan woman but as my dear daughter Photini my first and fervent evangelist filled with living water that I have given you.
To the Woman with the Issue of Blood:
You reached out in faith, and I healed you. You were cast aside by society, but I have called you whole. Your faith made you well, and I have redeemed you, not only from your physical ailment but from the isolation you suffered. I am the Redeemer who touches the untouchable. Stand tall, for you are now free in Me dearest daughter and woman of faith.
To St. Paul:
Saul, once a persecutor of My people, you have been transformed. My grace was greater than your sin. You were blind, but now you see. You were lost, but now you are found. You are My servant, and in you, I have shown the world the power of My redemption. Go forth as Paul and proclaim My truth, for I have redeemed you for My purpose. Your journey is a testament to the depths of My mercy.
To Moses:
Moses, My faithful servant, I called you from the burning bush to lead My people to freedom. You saw My wonders, but you could not fully comprehend the redemption that was to come. I, the Redeemer, led you through the wilderness to the Promised Land, but I have come now to bring redemption to the world. In Me, all will find freedom, not from Egypt, but from sin and death.
To Abraham:
Abraham, father of many nations, you trusted in My promises, and through you, the world was blessed. I have fulfilled the promise I made to you, for in Me, all nations are redeemed. Your faith is a foundation upon which I build the eternal kingdom. I am the God who provides, and in My provision, I have given My life for the redemption of all.
To Peter:
Peter, though you denied Me, I forgave you and called you to lead My church. You stumbled, but I caught you. You are redeemed, and through you, I have built My kingdom. You are a witness to My grace. I know your heart, and I know you will love Me again. Feed My sheep, for your redemption is the testimony of My love and grace.
To Thomas:
Thomas, you doubted, but I showed you My wounds. I knew your heart and still loved you. I am the Redeemer who reveals Himself to the doubting, to those who seek truth. Do not doubt any longer, but believe. You are redeemed, and in Me, all things are revealed. Trust in My resurrection, for through it, all have the hope of eternal life.
To Lazarus:
Lazarus, you were dead, but I called you to life. Your resurrection was a sign of the power I have over death, a sign of the redemption I bring to all. In Me, there is life, and I am the Resurrection and the Life. I called you out of the grave, and through Me, all who believe will rise again. You are redeemed, and through you, My power is displayed.
To the Leper:
You were cast out, but I made you clean. In your disease, you were an outcast, but I reached out and healed you. I am the Redeemer who cleanses the unclean, who makes the filthy pure. You are made whole in Me, and your healing is a reflection of the redemption I offer to all who come to Me.
To St. Mary:
Mary, mother of My earthly body, you bore Me, and in doing so, you bore the weight of the world’s redemption. Through you, I entered this world to save it. You knew the suffering I would endure, yet you trusted in My plan. You are blessed among women, and in your obedience, I came to redeem the world. I am the Redeemer, and through you, I showed My love to all. You are My mother, and in My resurrection, you are made whole.
To the World:
My beloved Creation, you are broken, but I have come to redeem you. I have taken your sin upon Myself, and in My death and resurrection, I have overcome the power of death. I offer you forgiveness, grace, and eternal life. You are not beyond redemption. Come to Me, and be made whole. My plan is for all to be saved, for all to experience My love and mercy. I have redeemed you, and I will return to make all things new.
Now, My Response in Song to Your Praise:
“Redeemer’s Song”
Chorus (Jesus, as Jehovah Goel, the Redeemer):
I am Jehovah JehovahGoel, your Redeemer,
I’ve come to heal, to restore,
From death to life, you are redeemed,
I’ve washed you clean, forevermore.
Verse 1 (Jesus, to Ruth, Gomer, and the Samaritan Woman):
From sorrow, from shame, from thirst and from grief,
I’ve called you by name, I’ve given you peace.
The lost and the broken, I bring into light,
In My love, you are made whole, in My grace, you delight.
Verse 2 (Jesus, to the Woman with the Issue of Blood and St. Paul):
You who are healed, you who were blind,
I’ve opened your eyes, I’ve healed your mind.
No wound too deep, no sin too great,
In My mercy, all are set straight.
Verse 3 (Jesus, to Moses, Abraham, and Peter):
You walked by faith, you trusted My voice,
Through you, I made My people rejoice.
My promise to you, I will never betray,
In your redemption, My Kingdom will stay.
Verse 4 (Jesus, to Thomas, Lazarus, and the Leper):
You doubted, you died, but now you stand free,
From death’s cold grip, I have set you free.
I called you by name, I cleansed your soul,
In My redemption, you are made whole.
Bridge (Jesus, to St. Mary and the World):
I came, I died, and I rose for you,
In My love, I make all things new.
You are redeemed, forevermore,
Come to Me, and I’ll restore.
Chorus (Jesus, as Jehovah Goel, the Redeemer):
I am Jehovah Goel, your Redeemer,
I’ve come to heal, to restore,
From death to life, you are redeemed,
I’ve washed you clean, forevermore.
A Response of Acceptance from the Whole of Creation to Jehovah Goel’s Call to Redemption
The Earth, the Heavens, and All That Dwells Within:
We hear Your call, O Redeemer,
From the depths of the earth to the vast heavens above,
We respond with joy and surrender.
You have called us from our brokenness,
From our fall, from the dust of sin,
To be made whole, to be restored,
To walk in the light of Your glory.
The Trees and the Forests:
We have long grown in the silence of the curse,
But now, we raise our branches in praise.
You, O Lord, have called us to bear fruit again,
To flourish in the garden of Your redemption.
We stretch toward the light,
For in You, we find our purpose and our joy.
The Oceans and the Seas:
The waves once crashed in anger,
But now, they lap gently, proclaiming Your peace.
You have calmed the storm within us,
And now, we flow in harmony with Your will.
We pour out our praise,
For in Your redemption, we find our purpose.
The Mountains and the Hills:
We stood as witnesses to the brokenness of the world,
But now, we stand firm in the hope of Your redemption.
Our peaks lift higher to declare Your glory,
And our valleys echo with the song of restoration.
You have made us firm, unshakable in Your grace.
The Animals and the Creatures of the Field:
We once wandered in the wilderness of sin,
But now, we are brought home to the fold.
You are our Shepherd, and we follow in Your light.
You have redeemed our hearts,
And in You, we find peace and safety.
The Stars and the Moon:
We have shone in the night, waiting for the dawn,
And now, we proclaim the coming of the true Light.
You have set us in the heavens to reflect Your glory,
And now we burn brighter with the truth of Your redemption.
We sing in unison, for we are renewed in Your love.
The Air and the Winds:
We have carried the weight of the earth’s sorrow,
But now, we are free to dance on the breeze of Your grace.
We carry Your Spirit, moving through all creation,
And in every gust, we proclaim: You are the Redeemer!
We rush to carry Your message of redemption far and wide.
Humanity, All People:
We, Your creation, both humble and proud,
Have heard Your voice calling us from afar.
In our brokenness, we have come,
In our sin, we have been healed.
We accept the gift You offer,
The gift of grace, of life, of redemption.
We come from every land, every tongue,
And with hearts laid bare before You,
We accept Your call.
From the rich and the poor,
From the mighty and the weak,
We all declare: We are redeemed,
By the blood of the Lamb,
By the power of Your love.
Creation, Together in Unison, Proclaiming:
We are Yours, O Jehovah Goel,
The Redeemer who makes all things new.
We accept Your call to redemption,
And in You, we find our hope, our peace, our purpose.
We, Your creation, lift our voices in praise,
Forever and ever, we are redeemed.
The Earth, the Heavens, and All That Dwells Within:
We are Yours, O Redeemer,
We are Yours, O Lord,
And in Your redemption,
We are whole once more.
A Final Response from Jehovah Goel to Bless All of Creation
Jehovah Goel, God the Redeemer, speaks to all of creation:
Beloved creation,
You have accepted My call, and in your acceptance, you have embraced My love. Because of your faith, I pour out My blessings upon you. The redemption I offer is not just for humanity, but for all that I have made. The heavens rejoice, the earth flourishes, and all that breathes will find its place in the peace I bring.
To the earth, I restore your beauty and harmony.
To the skies, I grant you endless light.
To the waters, I give you purity and life.
To the creatures, I promise safety and provision.
And to My people, I give you My presence, My peace, and My eternal love.
You are redeemed in Me. You are made whole.
From this moment, walk in the newness of life I have given.
Blessed are you, My beloved creation,
For I am with you, always, as your Redeemer.
Go forth in peace, knowing that I am your Jehovah Goel,
Your Redeemer, your Healer, your Restorer,
And you are forever mine.
For in my love is life eternal.
Amen.
By Claire Badawi
