Pre-Easter Thoughts

Ageless Beauty
Originally uploaded by Bethany Mae Photography
Tomorrow is Easter. I won't be at PBC. The thought makes me sick to the stomach, really. My first Sunday away from it. The Lord knows best.

I've heard mixed things about the church we're visiting tomorrow. They have a youth group. I'm so thankful that He is strong when I am weak and frail. I mean, tomorrow I will meet a whole new group of people. I'll have to try and make a good yet sincere impression upon them. Somehow, I'll have to try and rejoice.

I am so thankful for my dear sisters--and brothers--in Christ.

Today I went to a party. I was afraid things might be different; awkaward. At first, they were slightly so. But as the afternoon wore on, things went back to what the used be before I left. It was a sweet time for me. Seeing friends felt so normal to me. Like the way things used to be, and that was sooooo nice. Aftwerward, Abi and I hung out for a bit. I loved that. She is so wise and so sweet.

I was reminded today that what we struggle with pales in comparison to what Christ suffered on the cross. The things that hurt me cannot possibly be as painful and crushing as what hurt Him.

I'll admit, I haven't taken time to truly contemplate the Cross since the summer. Not once have I sat down and thought about it deeply. No, my mind has been quite clouded. Perhaps I will now.

Jesus was perfect. He never made a mistake. He is God. The Creator of the universe. He spoke it all into existence. He created Pilate, Peter, Judas, and all those who betrayed Him on that night. He watched, knowing their hearts and minds. Many of those who shouted, "Crucify Him!" on that night had heard Him teach before. And as Romans 1 says, all men are born with some knowledge of God. They knew. And still they crucified Him. They beat Him with a whip on which shards of bone, clay, and rock were strung. His back was covered in blood. And all the while, He knew. 3 nails were shoved into His body-- one through each hand and one through His feet. We think paper cuts are painful. Multiply a paper cut a million times and that still pales in comparison to what He felt physically, and likely emotionally too. He was humiliated as His garments were sold to mockers. He was humiliated as a crown of thorns was pierced into His head and blood streamed down His face. (Is this how I treat Him?) He was humiliated as a sign mockingly proclaimed Him as the King of the Jews. He was humiliated as mockers served Him sour wine on a sponge. (Is this what I do with my life?) Then He said, "It is finished." And it was.

I put Him on that cross. It was for my sin, and for my justification. i deserve to be there. I deserve to feel the pain and rejection and hurt He felt. I put my own Savior on that tree. I put Him there.

His bones were not broken, as would have happened to any other. Instead, His side was pierced. And out of it poured water. Then, Joeseph of Arimathea came to take Jesus' body away. He was placed in a borrowed tomb--not even His own--and laid there for three days.

To be continued.

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