Somber reflection, a solitude of sacredness is necessary - imperative in this Holy Week. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us. He became a man that would feel and suffer pain in the same way you and I suffer. Imagine the most horrific, soul breaking pain. This is the pain that held Him to a cross he chose to bear.
He died a gruesome death for my every moment - for your every moment. Each moment of this day that I have failed, that I have stumbled. And for those victorious moments where I joyfully overcome. He died that more and more of my moments would become victorious.
When we surrender our life to Christ, we are no longer slaves, we are children of God (Gal. 4:7). We are no longer bound to sin and destruction, we have freedom. We have been ransomed by a gracious and merciful Father.
The mercy of God is unrestrained. He delights in showing, giving, and pouring mercy over us.
Through the cross of Jesus Christ, God planned a way of escape - a path to freedom. My sin, my fears, my anxious thoughts do not have a stronghold on me.
Everything I choose to surrender and give will be nailed to the cross. It can be left there to be covered by His blood that flowed out.
I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, Phil. 3:10.
Do I want to know Christ? Deeply and completely know the Savior who gave his life for me? And if I desire to know Christ will I be willing to become like him in his death, suffering and dying to my own will. Would I become like Him in His death and pray always in every situation, in every joy, and in every sorrow - “not my will, but yours be done”? Is this truly the desire of my soul?
We often offer ourselves in pieces - giving him this, but not offering that. We desire the grace and the mercy, but not the draw to repentance. We desire the joy, yet not the sorrow that will lead us to joy. We desire deliverance rather than redemption. We seek good gifts rather than unwavering contentment.
Yet, you see, God offers Himself to us wholly and completely. And He desires that we offer ourselves wholly and completely. Even if all that we have is broken and shattered pieces - if we offer ALL of them - through the power of the blood stained cross He takes them and makes them whole.
It’s one simple, yet incomprehensibly difficult statement - always, every moment - “not my will, but yours be done”. As I surrender each part of my will, as I place each broken piece on the cross - life and freedom begins to flow. He delights in our surrender.
Oh, what love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God, because that is what we are! (1 John 3:1)
He lifts my bowed head, he takes my clenched hands and loosens them, he gently and tenderly takes the arms folded tightly and spreads them wide. He pulls me out of the valley of dark and places me in a field of light. This is Christ in me. He sets me free.
Try it…pull a piece of paper out, draw a cross, and begin to write…what do you need leave at the cross this Easter season?