The Mess We Leave As We Pass through

It is officially Easter in the Eastern Time Zone. Easter is one of my favorite holidays because of what it means for me. And for you. My wife pointed out yesterday that it is only Christian holidays that have some phony character to take the place of Christ. There is no Hanukkah Bunny, or Ramadan Fairy. No Boofalooni in a red suit to hand out gifts on Kwanzaa. Nope. Just all Christian holidays have been perverted, and you know what that tells me? That Christianity is right. The enemy attacks what is dangerous, not what is false. That makes it all worth while. So I will celebrate and rejoice in the salvation I have because of and only because of Jesus, my Savior, God in the flesh, sent to save me. And you.

Christ's resurrection meant everything. If He had just died this horrible death, we would still have nothing in our hands. Since He rose, we hold eternity. It gives me chills. To sit and think about where I was going when Christ whispered in my ear with thunder that cracked even the darkest and strongest part of my heart. It left me lying in piles for days. The raw fact that someone paid for me and is still active in me. That my Maker and God would peer down into my wretched guts and see something He loved. The thought that He did what He did for me. And for you. It isn't fair what happened to our Christ, but I can never wish anything different. I can only say thank you. So Thank you.

I still remember walking those tracks. Looking only at the ground as I kicked the rocks that sat scattered between the railroad ties. I wept as I walked blurring my vision and creaking my voice as I spoke aloud the reasons I was walking these tracks in the first place. I found the place and laid down, wishing inside that my whole life had been different. I wanted so bad to feel like other people did, or appeared to feel. I wanted to be loved, but I felt nothing but anger and hopelessness. I would alternate between consoling myself for a life wrecked and giving courage for a train wreck. I was not getting off those tracks. That I promise you. I was certain of what I wanted and had decided years before that this was going to be it. I had no idea what was on the other side of my eyes. Once they were closed and I reached eternity, I feared that I would be waking up in torment, but nothing could be worse than what I already felt. At least I thought that. I thought about Will and Joe. They were my angels sent to hold me up. I thought how they would go on. I guess I know the answer now to that question.

Sometimes it takes a person with nothing left, to see what Jesus really meant when He hung on those jagged sticks. He was looking at all of the suffering people. The lost and dying inside. He was looking at the orphans and remnants of war. He was looking at the mess we leave as we pass through. This made Him more miserable that any spike or glass shard could. So it was worth it. I am eternally grateful. My God walked past the religious and came over to me, the filth of this miserable earth. He reached out His hand and picked me up. How could I not be eternally grateful.







Sing.
Migrate.


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