Somewhere between the coming and the going today, I stopped. And I remembered.
A picture of Christ came into view that I’d long forgotten. I wept. How could it be? This One, who made the lame to walk and the blind to see, crucified — for me? I don’t deserve Him. Yet, He died. Willingly, without a flinch, His love He expressed. “Take my life; let her live.”
I see Him pleading, the enemy standing, nails in hand.
“She’s mine; release her.”
His? But, how? Surely He knows my impatient ways, my fears, my scars. Surely . . .
My thoughts stray toward another image, this time a declaration in the Word.
Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:4, 5
I fall to the floor, face to the ground, at the foot of the cross where mercy’s love flows down. Mercy’s love. It calls to the tender places of my soul, draws up through tears my heart’s response. “Forgive me.”
When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. John 19:30
Finished. Forever. For good. Let me love as if it were so.
But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions — it is by grace you have been saved. Ephesians 2:4, 5
Loved. Released. Freed. Made alive again. Wrecked by grace. Let me live as if it were so. Forever. For good.
I heard the powerful Sons & Daughters song “Buried in the Grave” for the first time when Levi led it at SouthBrook a few weeks ago. It wrecked me. I’m listening again today, several times over. Listen with me and remember, “It is done.” Let it wreck you. Then live as if it were so.