Month: March 2018

“The moon and stars they wept

The morning sun was dead

The Savior of the world was fallen

His body on the cross

His blood poured out for us

The weight of every curse upon Him

One final breathe He gave

As heaven looked away

The Son of God was laid in darkness

A battle in the grave

The war on death was waged

The power of hell forever broken”

Forever we sing hallelujah.

Good Friday.

It’s hard for me to understand what Jesus did. He died for every sin. He died for every person. So that we may be apart of something bigger, something new and beautiful.

Sometimes we don’t feel understood. But we still must press on up the hill as Jesus did. Because there’s something better for us. A life bought and paid in blood, designed specifically for each one of us. How marvelous! How wonderful!

People won’t understand. They don’t have to. Look what people did to Jesus, and what he still did for us.

I wonder today what Jesus must have been feeling on this Wednesday.  He knew full well that betrayal was to come.  He was preparing to share his final meal with his disciples with its meaning soon to be lived out.  He was preparing his body for the pain and the suffering of his father’s will that he’d known was coming all along.

But today is only Wednesday and he hasn’t quite reached the turning of the page.

Is he afraid? Is he ready? Is he dreading the days designed to break him? Is he ready for the accusations to whip across his back tearing his flesh? Is he ready to bear the cross and trudge up a hill? Is he ready to hang from nails and die in front of mockers so many? Is he ready to be sacrificed? Is he ready to die for us? Is he ready to die for me? I think Jesus was ready for a Silent Wednesday to prepare him for his purpose.

I’ve never done a fast from eating for 24 hours before. Not for my faith’s sake, not for my health, not for anything. But I’ve been part of a nutrition group for the past few weeks that asks us to fast for one day this week and I chose today. No food, no junk, just to drink up.

I chose today knowing work will keep me busy, but also truly eager to see what things in my life are filling me up. When food is off the table, what am I reaching for and putting on my plate? And am I getting full? Am I still hungry? Are the items on my plate good for me, or are they poisoning my insides?

I want to examine myself today. Just me, my heart, my wants, my needs, my faith, my fears, my pain, my struggles, and my consumption of the living water. I want a Silent Wednesday to remind me of my purpose.

Jesus knew his purpose in this life was to make disciples to tell of the deep deep love of God for us, and then to die so that we all might have hope and freedom from sin through his blood. All to obey his father’s plan. It was all for us!

But what is my purpose? Isn’t it the same? Isn’t it to show people the love of God? Isn’t it to sacrifice myself so that people may know Jesus through me? Isn’t it to give people freedom through the blood that flowed from his side? Isn’t it to give people hope through his resurrection and promise to come again?

My purpose is not to eat the things that don’t fill me with love. My purpose is to throw out the things going to waste in my life.

So today I take my Silent Wednesday to prepare for my days to come. No, I’m not going to be beaten and hung on a cross to die on a hill. I don’t have the weight of the sins of the world on my shoulders. But I do have a purpose. I do have a choice to make. Will I choose comfort in the days I’ve been living? Or will I choose the fight for the days he’s prepared for me? I’m choosing to take a Silent Wednesday.

Waking up at 2am. The baby cries and I’m awake at 2am. He doesn’t need anything just to know I’m there. I give him a pat and tuck him back in. Back to sleep he goes and then I’m up at 2am.

At 2am my mind is always awake. It wants to go through lists, count wrongs and rights, and be busy when my body could really just use a break.

So I lay back in bed and pull the notes up on my phone. I type out the words, and the fears, and the triumphs running through my head. They pour out so easily at 2am, and sometimes it’s 4 or 5 before I can go back to bed. But that’s ok. 2am has become My time, My quiet, My peace, and the lifter of my head.

At 2am I search my heart as I write myself back to sleep. Dig a little deeper to my core. It hurts, but it heals when I go where the blood and the cross have already covered me.

Sometimes I don’t want to go everywhere my mind decides to travel. Back to people and places that my mind hasn’t visited in awhile. But at 2am things don’t seem to hurt as much and the words start to unravel.

I think we all carry with us hurts that seem to grip us. We think we’ll never get out, that we’re trapped, and that sinful human life has tried to trick us.

But I’ve found at 2am, the picture is a little clearer. We trick ourselves into believing we can fix ourselves, as the sin-sick world keeps pushing us to the mirror.

My truth comes out at 2am, that I can’t do life with just my own two hands. I need hope and faith in something bigger if I want to be apart of his grace-filled plans.

At 2am I really just need God. I don’t need anything else. His grace has pardoned all sins, not just mine but also the sins of others that I keep high upon a shelf.

If God can say your sins are covered then covered they shall be. I’ll find the strength to forgive you, and then I’ll be set free.

But freedom is a minute by minute choice. I’ll have to choose each second. So 2am will wake me each night until freedom in my heart has been reckoned.

Every day you grow a little more.

Every day you’re a little older than before.

Your legs grew strong so you could walk, and your lips formed words as you began to talk.

Your hands learned to busy themselves.

You need me less and climb on a stool now to reach the shelves.

You still want to be carried and that’s fine with me.

We go up the stairs to bed and I don’t remember when you got so heavy.

Your little eyes watch me close.

You sing my songs, walk like me, talk like me, and I now see me in you the most.

You teach me how to slow down.

To sit still and breathe you in.

To hold you close when you let me because you’ll never be this little again.

You teach me how to wait for things.

To count each moment as a blessing.

You show me the goodness the waiting brings.

That our stories are written in the guessing.

My darling girl, how I love to watch you grow.

Your little heart shows mercy and you’re stronger than you know.

You bring joy to everyone you meet.

With happy songs, hugs and kisses, and a smile that’s so kind.

I’ll miss putting shoes on your little feet.

And picking which princess story to tell you because you can’t make up your mind.

I wish I could keep you small forever.

I just don’t want you to grow.

I’ll always love being together.

These things little girl, I just wanted you to know.