As I walked this morning, I thanked God for these things: I am taking a walk this morning, I could hear the birds singing, I could see the trees and shrubbery in full blossom, and the taste ofthat wonderful maple syrup I had for breakfast.
It seems like when you're being thankful, it never fails that thoughts of what you can't do or the problems you have pop into your mind. I thought of my feet cramping so tight that I can't walk until it goes away, then my mind cut away to the shaking and tremors that keep me from being able to type or write sometimes, and how my brain goes into an inactive state and won't move until the spasm passes. I wanted to complain to someone. The thought hit me then of what Jesus went through for my sake 2,000 years ago.
Jesus walked the via dolorosa after he had been spit upon, whipped with a metal tipped whip to within an inch of his life, he was bruised, cut and bleeding from the top of his head to the tip of his feet, and yet he carried the cross to the place of the crucifixion. The Bible says that Simon the Cyrene carried the cross for him at some point, but maybe Simon didn't take the full weight of it off of Jesus, but only helped Him carry it?
The Lord was then nailed to the cross - nails hammered into his palms and feet - and hung up in hot sun without food or water to die.
And I want to complain? Jesus did all this without saying a word, without complaint, and with full intent to carry out the whole event to completion. He could have called down legions of Angels to protect Him or get Him out of there, but He knew God's purpose and plan and was determined that He should not fail in His part of it.
BUT, someday, someday, Praise God, Almighty, we who love Him, accept Him and call Him Savior, will look upon Him once again and the face we will see will be glorious, not bruised and bleeding, and His arms will be opened wide, welcoming us home!
We Shall Behold Him
Wouldn't you like to be a part of that homecoming? If you have not asked Christ to be your Savior, won't you do so today?
There's not a friend like the lowly Jesus, no not one, no not one.