When I think about Easter, I think of the obvious. What happened Friday, the hopelessness of Saturday, and the promise of Sunday.  It’s not lost on me the suffering. The emotional, mental, and physical torture that He endured. How a King would trade where angels trod for a life that would be given up for the very same people that hated him. The ones that beat Him, mocked Him, and tried to break Him. 

What’s lost on me is the behind the scenes. The scenes you can’t understand unless you’re a parent. I imagine a mother kissing baby toes and then her kissing the bloody feet of her baby, as a man. Feet that ran around her home as a little boy. Feet that walked on water.  Feet that said “follow me.” 

What’s lost on me is that God loves us so much that He sent the ransom of the world in the form of a baby. A baby He would watch grow, in sheer perfection, and would watch condemned as a man, without blemish.  How is one capable of such love that they can do that? That they can see past the forest for the trees? It’s something not of this world; not human. God. Yahweh. 

When I hold my imperfect children; the ones I don’t deserve, I imagine how that heart actually ached that Friday when the stone was rolled shut. I imagine how it felt to wash away the blood from his body. Tracing the scars of his hands and feet and kissing the temples were they so cruelly placed a crown of thorns. I bet she kissed Him 100 times before they made her leave. I bet she smelled his hair as He laid there, and had flashbacks of when He was a boy lying with her; smelling His hair. I imagine it rained that day. I imagine God’s heart truly broke. I don’t know if God cries, but I bet He cried even being all-knowing, knowing Sunday was coming. I bet He still cried. 

There isn’t a love comparable to what it means to be a mom; a parent. But, the love I cannot fathom, cannot understand, do not deserve, cannot believe I get to receive is that of the One who sent His only son to die for me.  A love that endured absolute agony just at the chance to have a relationship with me. That is a love that is not of this world. A love that is not only spoken; it’s lived out. A love that makes the sun jealous of the moon. A love that moves mountains with a whisper. A love commands waves and thunder. A love that conquers all. 

I recently asked Case about how love and hate have a fine line. How the devil will use fear as a motivation for us to bend to this world and its demands. In my head, I said: “if he answers this with the word “love” I may lose it.” 

I asked, “what do you think is stronger than hate and fear?” My cup overflowed when my precious boy said, “Love is stronger than anything there is.” 

God loved us so much that His love for us outweighed anything the devil could do to Him or to His Son. Jesus paid it all. The cat of nine tails, every hair plucked from his beard, every taunt and curse, every taste of someone else’s spit, every thorn, every ounce of strength it took to lift up his lifeless body up to take a breath on that cross, with a nail in His feet, all while begging “GOD FORGIVE THEM.” It is NOTHING of this world. 

It’s not lost on me that His mother sat right there, quietly, obediently, and watched the death of the love of her life. She heard every hateful thing they said about her PERFECT child. She saw every stumble as He carried His own cross. Unable to run, and help him. Unable to stop what she knew had to happen. Powerless. It took more strength and obedience, in that moment, to trust that God was using what the enemy meant for evil for good. I cannot imagine watching my son save me and the rest of the world at the expense of what our Lord endured on that cross. 

There’s no mountain He won’t climb up, shadow He won’t light up- coming after me. There’s no wall He won’t kick down, no lie He won’t tear down coming after me. There’s no crown He won’t give up, no throne He won’t step down- coming after me. 

….like a lamb You suffered, but a LION You arose 

Sunday’s coming!