She slips from my lap and picks up her Jesus Storybook Bible.* She hands it to me, saying,
“Carry please, Mama.”
I say, “Sure!” as we head out the gate and toward the
bathroom.
She settles in on the floor as I pull out a floss
pick.
I know just what she is referring to. They are words from the story of the
crucifixion. I turn around and face her
on the floor, flipping to the familiar illustration. (Jesus is on the cross, battered and bruised
with a crown of thorns on his head and a tear falling from his eye. Above him a sign reads “Our King.”)
She turns her head toward mine with a familiar request on
her lips. “Read.”
I pull her up on my lap, there on the bathroom floor, and
begin halfway through the story.
“They nailed Jesus to the cross.
“Father forgive them,” Jesus gasped. “They don’t understand what they’re doing.”
“You say you’ve come to rescue us!” people shouted. “But you can’t even rescue yourself!”
But they were wrong.
Jesus could have rescued himself.
A legion of angels would have flown to his side—if he’d called.
“If you were really the Son of God, you could just climb
down off that cross!” they said.
And of course they were right. Jesus could have just climbed down. Actually, he could have just said a word and
made it all stop. Like when he healed
that little girl.” - The Jesus Storybook Bible, p. 304
Here we pause.
We revisit the story that we read the night before in the front room. Jairus, the little girl’s daddy had come to Jesus. I ask if she remembers how Jesus went to the little girl and called her from death to life saying, “Honey, it’s time to get up.” She nods and says, “Breakfast.” "Yes," I affirm. “He asks her if she would like some breakfast. How about you? Are you hungry for breakfast?” I ask her with a little smile and a friendly poke.
We revisit the story that we read the night before in the front room. Jairus, the little girl’s daddy had come to Jesus. I ask if she remembers how Jesus went to the little girl and called her from death to life saying, “Honey, it’s time to get up.” She nods and says, “Breakfast.” "Yes," I affirm. “He asks her if she would like some breakfast. How about you? Are you hungry for breakfast?” I ask her with a little smile and a friendly poke.
She says again, “Read.”
And so I do.
“He could have just said a word and made it all
stop. Like when he healed that little
girl. And stilled the storm. And fed 5,000 people.
But Jesus stayed.
But Jesus stayed.
You see, they didn’t understand. It wasn’t the nails that kept Jesus
there. It was love.” - The Jesus Storybook Bible, p. 304
It was love. I
pause here. I soak it in.
The nails in his hands.
The nails in his feet. The
thorns. The shame. They speak of his love.
He could have made it stop. But he didn’t.
The people didn’t understand, then.
Do I understand, now?
I don’t know.
“Papa?” Jesus cried, frantically searching the sky.
“Papa? Where are
you? Don’t leave me!”
And for the first time—and the last—when he spoke,
nothing happened. Just a horrible
endless silence. God didn’t answer. He turned away from his Boy. – The Jesus Storybook Bible, p. 304
Oh, this moment.
I think of my Little Love and the way she often calls out
playfully from her room these days, “Daddy, where are you?”
She knows her daddy will come looking for her. She expects it. She looks forward to it. It brings her comfort, peace and such joy
to know her daddy will respond.
Here, Jesus’ daddy doesn't respond. The Father turns his face away. He turns away from the Son He loves. With the picture of my girl in my mind, I
find my heart breaking. Oh, this moment.
“Tears rolled down Jesus’ face. The face of the One who would wipe away every
tear from every eye.” – The Jesus Storybook Bible, p. 304
My Little Love, she looks at with me with concern written
all over her face and says, “Cryin'.”
Yes, dear. Crying.
I can’t imagine she grasps the fullness of this,
yet. How could she? I am still not sure I do. But it is amazing to me that she does get that
this is a moment to pause. She tenderly wants
to reach out in comfort as she sees Jesus’ hurting face and hears of His tears.
We turn the page.
“Even though it was midday, a dreadful darkness covered
the face of the world. The sun could not
shine. The earth trembled and
quaked. The great mountains shook. Rocks split in two. Until it seemed that the whole world would
break. That creation itself would tear
apart.
The full force of the storm of God’s fierce anger at sin
was coming down. On his own Son. Instead of his people. It was the only way God could destroy sin,
and not destroy his children whose hearts were filled with sin.” -The Jesus Storybook Bible, p.306
As I read of this storm raging, I feel it. I feel so very aware of the many ways I have
messed up and do mess up—so very aware of the sinful heart that God was seeking
to save. I think of the words of Paul: “For
our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become
the righteousness of God.” -2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV
God loved his creation—the people made in his image—so
much that he was willing to give his Son to destroy sin and not his children
whose hearts were filled with it. How deep the Father’s love for us.
How deep the Father’s love for me. The thought makes me tremble inside.
Then Jesus shouted in a loud voice, “It is finished!”
And it was. He had
done it. Jesus had rescued the whole
world.
“Father!” Jesus cried.
“I give you my life.”
Strange clouds and shadows filled the sky. Purple, orange, black. Like a bruise.
Jesus friends gently carried Jesus. They laid Jesus in a new tomb carved out of
rock.
How could Jesus die?
What had gone wrong? What did it
mean? They didn’t know anything
anymore. Except they did know their
hearts were breaking.” –The Jesus Storybook Bible, p. 306
Jesus speaks words of power. And then he dies? This doesn’t really seem like a rescue.
The storm that has been raging
suddenly seems to calm—like when Jesus stilled the storm. Yet this calm seems awful and ugly. I feel numb.
In this moment, I am with the disciples wondering, “How
could this happen? Wasn’t Jesus the
Rescuer? The King God had promised? It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”*
Then, I remember. It doesn’t end like this.
Jesus is not dead.
He is alive!
I look at my Little Love and tell her, “It doesn’t end
here! Jesus rises. He is alive!”
She giggles.
It was for the joy that was set before him that Jesus endured the cross—the joy of relationship with us, the joy of
relationship with me.
I think of the lyrics from Matt Maher’s
song 'Christ is Risen': “Oh death! Where is your sting? Oh hell! Where is your victory? Oh church! Come stand in the light! Our God is
not dead. He’s alive! He’s alive!”
I smile and pull her close saying, “This is good news!”
She wiggles out of my arms. I let go of her and stand up, turning towards the sink to grab my tooth brush.
I notice the morning sun shining. Its bright light is pouring in right where I am standing; and I can't help but continue to hum to myself, "He's alive! He's alive!"
***
“Now unto him that is able to keep you
from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory
with exceeding joy, To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory
and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.” –Jude 1:24-25, KJV
***
Grace and peace be
ours in abundance this Good Friday as we remember the depth of the Father’s
love for us and this Easter as we
remember—Jesus is risen, He is risen, indeed!
May we take joy in the hope that we have through His death and
resurrection. When we come to Him, Jesus takes our sinful hearts and presents us faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy. We are so very loved.
Jessica :)
P.S. I highly recommend The Jesus Storybook Bible if you do not already own a copy. It is published by Zondervan. © 2012. The story referenced throughout this post is called 'The sun stops shining,' pages 302-309. The thoughts I shared along with the disciples are from p. 310.
The photos in this post are from Badlands National Park, South Dakota in July 2010. We got up to watch the sunrise. The first two were taken by Jason and the third by me.
P.S. I highly recommend The Jesus Storybook Bible if you do not already own a copy. It is published by Zondervan. © 2012. The story referenced throughout this post is called 'The sun stops shining,' pages 302-309. The thoughts I shared along with the disciples are from p. 310.
The photos in this post are from Badlands National Park, South Dakota in July 2010. We got up to watch the sunrise. The first two were taken by Jason and the third by me.