It’s not long after children learn to speak that they begin asking questions. I think the favorite of all time is ‘why’. It’s natural for them to wonder why birds fly, why trees are called trees and why they can’t stand in shopping carts. They desire to understand their world; and reasons help them make sense of things. We’re the same way.
I ask myself the ‘why question’ at times when it comes to my faith and service. Much of what we are called to do by faith doesn’t make sense when we walk by sight. A re-visiting of Jesus’ story puts things back into perspective and service makes sense for me once again. I hope this re-telling of His story will do that for you as well.
A Sacrificial Death
The day was long and dismal; the haters many. Evil enjoyed its finest hour as the Savior of the World hung dying on a cross. Darkness seized the day. Mockers shouted blasphemous cruelty at the One who came to seek and save that which was lost. While gamblers parted His garments, the Son-of-Man made provision for His mother and gave eternal hope to a dying thief.
The moment had come. Death took his best shot. With three short words, “It Is Finished”, Jesus commended His Spirit into the hands of His Father and Life breathed His last. The earth shook. The rocks were split. The thick veil of the temple was rent; torn from top to bottom by hands far greater than the ones that nailed His Son to the tree. His mother was grieved, his disciples fearful and confused as the Hope of Nations was laid in a borrowed tomb. Was there ever so palpable a darkness?
Hope Resurrected
It was the third day. Morning came and the last vestige of night rolled away with the stone. The Son of God rose with power, conquering the very death that once slew Him. Women came to anoint His body for a proper burial but He wasn’t there. The tomb lay empty, housing nothing more than a linen napkin and the empty shell of grave cloths. Life and Light conquered death and darkness; and every hope once buried with Christ rose with Him. And so we live.
The Reason that Demands Our Service
Every bit of brutality Jesus endured on the cross was payment for a debt He didn’t owe. The debt was ours. Isaiah 53:5 But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed. This wasn’t something that just happened. It was for this very reason He came into the world. Mark 10:45 For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.” He chose this!
We serve Him because He is worthy. We love Him because He first loved us. 1 John 4:19. His death is our payment.His resurrection is our hope. His word is our message. His love is our proof and His promise is our future.
1 Corinthians 2:9 But as it is written: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” We serve Him so that others may know; until the last battle, on the last day. And then, in peace we will serve Him still.
How About You
Still asking yourself the ‘why question’? Wondering if this Jesus is really all that He’s professed to be? You’re in good company. One of His disciples had the same question. John 1:46 And Nathanael said to him “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” And so I extend the invitation to you.
God bless you and keep you,
Roxanne
Scripture taken from the New King James Version. ® Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Pictures: Compliments of Pixabay Creative Commons CC0.
Most all of us have been there before. You know, that place where your ‘should-have-been’ and your ‘wish-it-was’ doesn’t line up with your ‘how-it-is’. It’s not a fun place to be but there I was. I didn’t say anything, at least not out loud but the statement was made all the same. “Lord, I don’t know how to be anymore.” I wasn’t looking for an answer. I didn’t ask a question. Silent but sure the answer came, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.” 
I sat alone, thinking after prayer meeting one morning. My mind wandered a bit until my eye caught the cross over the baptistery. It’s a simple cross; sanded, stained and varnished to match the rest of the wood in the church. It lends a respectful nod to the cross of long ago but lacks the rugged, brutal character of the one on which our Savior died.
My first encounter with the author was brief and interesting. I spent little more than a few minutes mingling with other conferees when Cynthia approached the group. She was warmly greeted and seemed to be known by most. I introduced myself, expecting a cursory nice-to-meet-you. Instead, she was friendly and welcoming; stating how glad she was to meet ‘me’ and how much she looked forward to our time together. It was a far cry from the pseudo-smile this newbie expected to receive.
Our 15 minute meeting turned into an hour as she instructed and encouraged me. She showed me what to remove, what corrections to make and how to paint pictures with words. Cynthia went on to talk of beauty, possibility, potential and what she envisioned for the future. It was amazing.
Make lemonade. That’s the solution-part of the adage, ‘when life gives you lemons’. Those proverbial lemons refer to life’s trials; bumps that pop up on an otherwise pretty smooth road. Those trials take many forms, i.e. car problems, illness, trials of faith, etc. It could be ‘that one person’ that comes at just the right time with just ‘the wrong’ thing to say that sets your teeth on edge. In any case, the advice is the making of lemonade. In other words, make something good out of a bad situation.
While watching a movie one evening, I saw something move behind the television. It was a mouse. To say that I was disturbed by this sighting is entirely true. It is also entirely understated. I ran to the kitchen. Standing by the counter talking to my sister, I saw it again creeping out from behind the china hutch. That mouse was running amuck in my house and terrorizing me. I screamed. My sister screamed too, though not just in sympathy for me. My scream startled her and she cut her finger, quite badly. Blood was pouring all over the place due to blood thinners she was taking so she had to get off the phone. Realizing that a shotgun would be overkill and a broom insufficient, I did what any red-blooded American girl raised in the suburbs would do. With tears in my eyes, I grabbed my jacket and purse and went shopping.
I spent this morning battling stains. Ok, not the whole morning but more of the morning than I would have preferred. One was an ink stain that resided on my husband’s finest dress shirt. He wore it for a couple hours and hung it up as soon as he got home, never seeing the ink. It would be a couple of weeks before he’d wear it again. When he saw the stain he thought to throw the shirt away, figuring it for a goner. I thought otherwise.
Penny is the sweetest little chicken. She follows me around the yard and meets me at the car when I come home from work. She found a dirt pile one day and it fast became her favorite place to be. She rolls around in it and works the dirt into her feathers. It doesn’t look appealing to me but it’s both cleansing and relaxing to her. I prefer a warm bath and candles myself, but to each chick her own I guess.
I got new glasses a couple months ago. At 50 blah-blah-blah years old, it was about time. This new pair was a double whammy for me; bi-focal & progressive lenses. They made me dizzy and nauseous. The ‘vision specialist’ said it was normal and would soon pass. This swanky pair of spectacles came with instructions; I’d have to find the sweet spot. I must say, there is something almost magical about the ‘sweet spot’. In this case, I could see clearly and didn’t require Dramamine®.
Clearer Vision
A heavy snowfall made both town and country roads hazardous and in some spots impassable for standard vehicles. That left me stuck at home and my husband stuck at work for two days. Once the roads were cleared, my husband was able to drive home; though not up our long driveway. He parked in front and trudged up the snowy path to the house. A neighbor saw the truck parked at the road and offered to bring the skip-loader over and remove the snow. 
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Strange tracks ran from the driveway straight to the chicken coop. I couldn’t recognize them from the house but got a better look when I opened Penny’s cage in the morning. The tracks encircled the entire coop and within them were paw prints. Claw marks were on the side of the coop and on the nest box. I’m not sure if the marks and prints were from a dog, a coyote or what but something had a hankering for a chicken dinner. “Better luck next time dog-breath, this coop is predator-proof!” I’m sure that’s what Penny was thinking. She was safely perched in her condo waiting for me to release her.
Hopefully Devoted 