Posted on a Sunday, because why should saints have all the fun?
He was carried.
Not condemned.
Not cast away.
But carried.
Picture it:
The clink of silver in a dusty pocket.
The echo of a kiss on a holy cheek.
A man walking—not running—into the shadows.
Judas didn’t bolt from his sin;
he folded into it.
Quietly.
Alone.
You know that feeling, don’t you?
That stone-on-your-chest guilt,
the “no one could possibly love me now” soundtrack
spinning at 3 AM?
Here’s the kicker, friend:
God still had him.
Yeah—that guy.
The betrayer.
The sellout.
The one we trash in Sunday sermons.
ONE SET OF FOOTPRINTS
We love that old “footprints in the sand” poem when it’s about us,
but Judas?
In the hours after betrayal,
the sand of his soul still bore
only one set of footprints.
Divine steps.
Carrying steps.
Mercy in motion.
But shame?
Shame will whisper you out of grace’s arms.
And Judas, broken, blind,
drowning in self-loathing,
climbed down from those arms.
He thought grace had a limit.
He believed failure was final.
He was wrong.
THE CROSSROADS
There was a moment.
A flicker.
A choice.
One path whispered,
“Come back, son.”
The other hissed,
“You’re too far gone.”
We know the road Judas took.
But… what if?
What if he had crashed at the foot of the cross,
weeping like Peter,
shattered but reaching?
What if he’d let himself
be carried just a little longer?
THE ARMS THAT WAITED
The same arms that pulled Peter from the waves,
that wrapped the leper in scandalous embrace,
that hauled the prodigal from pig pens,
were waiting.
Still are.
💥 FINAL THOUGHTS: THE ROOM YOU WALK INTO
This isn’t just Judas’ story.
It’s yours.
It’s mine.
It’s anyone who’s ever whispered,
“I’ve gone too far.”
Here’s the Sunday truth bomb:
✝️ Grace doesn’t break.
✝️ Mercy isn’t rationed.
✝️ God isn’t scared of your worst day.
So if you find yourself
in that room—
Don’t unpack.
Don’t bolt the door.
Let yourself be carried.
Just a little longer.
😏 SPICY POSTSCRIPT
Let me be blunt:
If you think you’ve blown it so bad
that heaven slammed the door—
You’re not that powerful, honey.
Your sin doesn’t scare God.
Your mess doesn’t revoke His promises.
Hell trembles when a wrecked soul
dares to believe in a love
that still wants them.
So walk outta that room,
or hell—better yet—
let Him carry you out.
🔥 “Imperfect on purpose. Sharp-tongued by design. NSFW by divine accident.”
🚀 #SaintDirtyFace, #RockstarFaith, #TheRoomJudasWalkedInto, #SundayRambles, #MercyInMotion
Saint Dirty Face 
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