My Salvation Reflection

Dear Jesus,

As I write this, there is a portion of my heart that just followed Dana and Eliza out the front door and followed them into their school. There is another part hanging out in the bathroom with Cora, listening to her sing "Let It Go" on continuous loop to the Barbie doll she has been swimming around in the sink for the last fifteen minutes. Another part is laying about ten feet in front of me, holding a book upside down, reading to himself in the fleeting baby gibberish that will be replaced with actual words far too quickly for my liking. (You know Jones, the (rather endearing) stinker of the bunch.) And another part of my heart is diligently and patiently teaching Diesel Mechanics to high school boys, probably day-dreaming about an alternate life where he would be shepherding his days away.

But today Lord, and for the last few days, there has been a large part of my thoughts and a part of my heart that has been directly connected to the You that walked this earth 2000 years ago. The You, that walked around among people like me, has been consuming me.

As the years go by, and as you faithfully and gradually reveal yourself to me, this week continues to take on more and more meaning. I find the more I fall in love with you the more I find myself wanting to trail by your side as you journey calmly and resolutely towards your cross. And along that walk with you so many conflicting emotions fall one after another in front of me. And I am forced to wade through each of them if I want to keep up with you, if I want to follow you all the way to the finish line...

Me and the kids have been reading so much these last few days about your last few hours in the garden, about your friend Peter's denial of you, about your friend Judas' betrayal of you, and of the mockery, and the physical abuse, and the complete desertion and hatred of the people who just days before had welcomed you into their city with open arms. And Lord, it's hard for me to swallow that I would have been any of them and and all of them. I am no different from any of these people who treated you with disregard, with complacency, and with utmost contempt. It would have been me, Lord, who would have fallen asleep in the garden after you had asked me to keep you company, as you know all too well how many times I fall asleep even now when we're in the middle of a conversation. It would have been me who denied knowing you to those around me who had seen evidence of our relationship, just like I sometimes catch myself doing today when confronted with my knowledge of you. It would have been me who would have valued material possessions and wealth over you, just like I so nonchalantly do when I buy that new pair of shoes instead of investing my resources in your sick, and your poor, and your hungry. It would have been me, Lord, who fled from your side in fear instead of standing my ground next to you, just like I do today when instead of speaking up and defending you I choose to keep my mouth shut when those around me slander your name.

I am guilty, Lord. I have turned my back on you. I have deserted you. I have spat on and beaten down and discarded our friendship over and over, time and time again. It is my sin that carried you those last few steps to the cross. It is my sin that nailed your hands to that tree. It is my sin that separated you from your Father, your God, and your life. It is my sin that stole your last breath and sent you into hell to endure three days of agony and anguish that you never could have deserved. It was me, dear Jesus, it was me.

And I am so sorry, my Lord. I am so, so sorry.

Yet it is in this place of knowing that there are no words or deeds to reconcile all I did to you, and all you did for me, that the only thing left for me to do is to trust you, and in doing so dive headfirst into your grace. For lack of anything else I can do, I must submerge myself in your promise of deliverance. Because I can't do anything to save you from the suffering you endured, or to save me from the suffering I deserve, I will choose to do the one and only thing that you do ask of me; I will allow myself to be covered in your forgiveness, bundled up and swaddled tight in your compassion, clothed in your unending love. I will let Easter Sunday and your victory over death mean something. I will let it change me. I will let your dying on my behalf not be taken lightly, but carry the weight and gravity it deserves. I will carry your sacrifice past Easter Sunday into the following Monday. I will let your death and resurrection be all that you intended it to be. I will live my life immersed in your mercy and radiating your love because you loved me enough to lay your own life down.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for letting me walk beside you. Thank you for opening my eyes and breaking my heart for all you went through because of me. Thank you for continuing to deepen my love for you and our relationship with each other. Thank you for the cross, and the grave, and the stone rolled away, and for what that empty tomb means today and everyday after. Thank you for saving me, and for being the kind of Savior whose only desire is to be repaid in love.

I love you.

Happy Easter, my Lord and my King.

In your most holy name I pray,
Amen