Families4Him

  There is a church sign I saw last week that said something to the effect: the saddest day and the happiest day were just three days apart. That's pretty remarkable. Then I think of my life. . . .

I do feel very sad in my heart today. I keep thinking of what was happening to Jesus on this day and it wounds my heart deeply. I think of the physical pain on his body. I think of the anguish of his emotions as he looks into the eyes of his accusers. I think of the humiliation, the crushing of the spirit, the shame that went with the events of the day. What motivation would cause a man to willfully live a day like that? I know the answer, and it hurts to confess it. He was thinking of me. Not the "good" me, no, the sinful me.  The prideful, self-centered, untrusting, fearful me. The me that deserves that kind of day as my destiny. It's difficult to grasp that kind of love. To describe such torture as a gift of love is almost beyond human digestion.

It makes me sad that the price had to be so high for me to be God's child. His payment for adoption was to sacrifice his only son so he could have this wayward daughter. Then I have to contemplate  my life today.  I have sorrow in my heart for how I've been treated, how I have felt rejected, how I have been humiliated, how I have known pain. . . I continue in that sorrow. At this moment on this day, Jesus is in the tomb. It would seem that in the spiritual battle going on that he lost. It would seem he took all my sins and buried them with him. It would seem I now have reason to stay in my sorrow. It would seem . . .