Skip to main content

40 days

40 days.  We wait.  Not with solemn trepidation of the unknown, but rather in humble, confident, wholehearted thanksgiving kind of knowing.  40 days of not-celebration, awaiting the greatest celebration.

Today, whether you observe Lent or not, know that Easter is the greatest day of the year.  Oh, it’s not about eggs or bunnies, though those are sweet.  It’s about life!  Life after death in fact! It’s about the greatest sacrifice becoming the greatest victory – death defeated!  Jesus Christ, having been crucified on a Roman cross, died, then rose to life!  No, it’s not “sweet”, it’s gruesome.  But that is what it took to save us.  A Holy God, an unholy people. 

“For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2b

Looking ahead to our salvation, Jesus endured.  He waited.  He did not call upon the legions of angels surely watching. He did not defend Himself nor explain.  He walked to the hill, He lay on the cross, He allowed His hands and feet to be nailed, He bore the curse in the crown of thorns, He did not take relief when it was offered, He waited for death to come… Even more, 3 days in the grave… He waited, while no one waited…

Then He lived again.  Have we read, said, celebrated that too many times that we nonchalantly believe it?  Have we forgotten the power of it?  If there is no excitement in you when you think of it, then maybe so.  Maybe we need to wait.  Maybe we need a renewed AWE of our God, for He is AWEsome!  His ways are mind-blowing, filled with power and peace.


40 days.  40 days until we celebrate what was THE Greatest Day in history.  Will you wait?  Will you wait expectantly?  Will you lay your eyes steadfastly on the Joy of your salvation – Jesus, and wait humbled in the knowing what great price was paid for you, for your eternal life?  If we have given our life to the One who gave us His, then we can wait in thank-filled confidence.  If not, I pray these next 40 days stir desire to know the great Joy that is Jesus.  And that we will, in the end, celebrate together!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Did something touch your heart? Please share about it.

Popular posts from this blog

When the pain get too big

There are times when the heartbreaks of this life collide with our weakness and the pain gets so big that even breathing is hard.  It’s like being dragged under by the surf and tumbled over and over until up is down and you’re dragged along the bottom and raw wounds meet with salted surf and the searing pain of it is only a faint echo of the pain within your soul and you gasp for breath and flail helplessly, like a rag doll, until you’re eventually released upon the shore coughing up the brine of your own tears… This is where I have been. Literally on the verge of tears at every moment.   Memories, regrets, sorrow, missing, aching, loss - churning, growing to tsunami intensity threatening to overwhelm.   Today I received a devotional from a Jewish Messianic site challenging us regarding the Sabbath.   Oh, how my soul yearned for it.   A Sabbath, a rest.   But the to-do list haunted and I headed to the shower to start the day.   All the while rest was beckoning to me…   What h
8 comments
Read more

It matters not

It matters little who I am. Each one of us has a story to tell, a life filled with love, loss, heartache, joy & laughter.  I am just a busted up pitcher.  Yes, the image that came to your mind - whether one you pour iced tea from, the one with the chip on the lip so it spills as much down the outside of your glass as gets in. Or the little creamer pitcher your gramma had in her hutch, the one with the broken handle that has glue globbed on it's listing side.  Or the one that you pour oil with, the one with the faint crack you overlook because you never think to replace it while you are shopping.  Oh, or maybe it's the purple plastic juice jug that hit the heating coil in the dishwasher... melted a hole an inch from the top but you never fill it that full anyway. No matter what image came to your mind, that's me.  The true value of a pitcher is not it's appearance or even its purpose but it's what the pitcher holds that is precious.  The sole purpose of the p
3 comments
Read more

Un-becoming

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure"-- for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. [Rev 19:7-8]   We’ve all been to weddings. Everything focuses around the bride. My favorite moment is to watch the groom as he catches the first glimpse of his bride, he’s overcome by her beauty – she’s prepared herself specifically and especially for this day.   Now imagine, how does the bride of Christ prepare herself to be radiant for her beloved? Righteous deeds, good works… As I pondered this passage and how it applies to this season,  I heard “Un-becoming” . I sense that this season we are in is a cleansing period, a time of preparation.   UN   becoming who we’ve become; busy, weary, anxious, overburdened, chameleon – being who others want or expect us to be. Lost, depressed, frustrated, needy.  And instead, shed the shackl
Post a Comment
Read more

The Cost of Freedom

  Memorial Day I once thought I understood the cost of freedom. I’d heard the family stories, my momma named for her uncle shot down over France, I’d been to the parades and ceremonies, could repeat great quotes, I’d seen the movies…   But then a few years ago I walked among the names – name after name after name, reaching far, even unto the horizon;  and the faces of sons and daughters and mothers and fathers – determination in their countenance, fear in their eyes, aged beyond their years.  One caught me as I walked by, gripped my heart and dragged me up close. He stared at me, wanting me to see, wanting to be known. Though his lips unable to speak it, his lifeless eyes told of the horrors he’d seen, the death he’d lived, the life he’d taken. He was just a boy, once full of life, now, full of death. He begged “Remember me.”  And through tears I vowed I would never forget him. Him without a name, an ordinary face – just one among many…  And then I stood, in reverential silence as mirr
Post a Comment
Read more