Growing up was quite an adventure in itself. I did all the normal
things young boys did, yet there was also something different. There was
a purpose for me to fulfill. This very purpose was the reason my parents
"lost" me for some time and found me in the temple, my Father's house.
Then there came the day when I had to leave my parents and begin
a journey that only I could do. Walking along the beach, found what some
would call very unlikely companions, but they were exactly what I needed.
One, whose name was Peter, was a fireball of enthusiasm and opinion. Little
did he know what was in store for him. There were others as well, some
fishermen, brothers, tax collectors, and the like.
Crowds gathered. So many people. Sometimes it would seem as though
they would smother Me.
There were so many. Sick. Diseased. Broken. Outcast. Rejected. Their
eyes filled with hope. Each one screaming, "Please help me!" and yet never
saying a word. Desperation. Questions upon questions. I can see it all.
There were times when I just had to get away, to be alone with My dad and
spend some time in his arms. It wouldn't be long before he would welcome
Me home. Each day, every precious hour, draws Me closer to a fate I know
I can’t avoid.
I can't explain to you how difficult it was to be completely God
and completely human. Religious leaders who were plotting against Me and
talking about Me when they thought I couldn't hear them. But I knew their
heart and it spoke to Me about the type of person they were. The day I
rode into Jerusalem on a donkey people lined the streets cheering, laying
palm branches and their garments in the dusty road for Me to ride in on.
And yet, I know it is this same cheering crowd who will be screaming to
have Me crucified.
How hard it was to hear one of My closest friends pledge his undying
loyalty to Me, willing to sacrifice his life for Mine and yet I know that
it will be just a few short hours before he denies that he ever even knew
Me. The hurt and confusion on his face saddened me as I revealed this to
him.
It's one thing to be betrayed, but to be betrayed by someone called
friend is something else. I gave him an up close and personal glimpse of
God and he sold it. Foolishness, your name is Judas. Once My personal friend,
now My betrayer. A kiss on the cheek? How ironic. And as that angry mob
came forward, a defender me came from behind. Peter. Sometimes his zeal
got the best of him and I had to remind him that this was the way I was
supposed to go. And as I turned I realized I was alone. Behind me was emptiness.
My friends had run away.
After a farce of a trial came the mocking. Every imaginable insult
was hurled at Me because ... why? My beard was pulled out; I was spit upon.
My garment, My only earthly possession, was gambled away by the soldiers.
It seemed evident to them that My garment was worth much more than My life.
I will never forget the beating. One would hit Me until he grew weary,
then another would pick up where the other left off. My back was so badly
beaten that it looked like raw ground meat. One of the soldiers went to
trouble of making Me a crown of thorns which, like a thousand daggers,
pierced my scalp and went all the way to My skull.
The cross was heavy. So heavy. With every step it seemed as though
the sins of the world were continually heaped on, almost crushing Me. Would
I make it up the hill? I had to.
As I laid down on that cross and stretched out my arms my stomach
was uneasy. I could just barely feel the tip of the spike at My wrist before
the hammer came down like a clasp of thunder and drove it into My flesh.
I screamed in agony and instead of compassion I got more insults. A couple
of more strikes and it would hold Me to this piece of wood.
Slowly, I was lifted up. Mv body's weight against the spikes made
it difficult to breathe. So many people. I could just barely make out the
image of John, one of my closest friends, and my mother.
Her face. The same face I remembered as an infant. How hard it was
for her to see her son this way. So much pain. And yet, even in this place,
salvation as the one on My right declares Me and becomes mine.
I did what I went to do. Finished. Completed
I did go back though, to the earth, I had to show them that I was
alive. Some more readily believed than others. But I especially wanted
to see My friend, Peter. You see, after he denied Me he thought he had
blown it with Me for good. He was wrong and I wanted to tell him face to
face. Some of you are like that. You think you've blown it, let me down
so badly that I could never give you another chance. But you’re wrong.
You can't sin greater than My love for you. All you have to do is turn
around to see Me.
At times, I feel the scars on My wrists and on My side and I think
of you. You are worth everything I went through. My love for you is so
much greater than any amount of pain I endured. As I anxiously wait for
the day to return, not in another manger, but in glory, I think about seeing
you run to Me as I run to you as fast as I can. Finally getting to embrace
you, a moment which I have waited for all your life. You keep saying, "Jesus,
Jesus. I love You", while I'm saying,"Oh how I love you! You did it, you
made it!”
It wasn't easy being Me ... but you are worth it!
Written by Rusty Wheelington, Minister of Youth Raleigh Baptist Church
Memphis, Tn. Used by permission only.......