Jesus faced much worse

He had immeasurably more demands on his time than I will ever have. I have two children, two dogs and one husband to care for. He had hundreds – sometimes thousands – at a time clamoring for his attention. Jesus, heal me! Jesus, my brother isn’t being fair – Tell him to quit! Jesus, can I sit at your right hand, please please please???

He had immeasurably more reason to be offended or impatient. He, the Giver and Sustainer of life, would have been justified to say, “You pathetic, poor excuse for a creature. Away from me.” I, on the other hand (the pathetic, poor excuse for a creature), have no grounds for my all-too-frequent moments of impatience and self-righteousness.

He had infinite reason to demand that everyone acknowledge his complete holiness and perfection.  Yet He hung on the cross enduring every physical, emotional, and spiritual pain that was meant for me, for my failures, my sin.  He didn’t call down a legion of angels to stop the whole thing, to salvage his name, to prove his righteousness. He endured, in a fascinating and unimaginable humility, until every last bitter drop had been drunk.    And in pitiful contrast, my pride rises up in boisterous offense when my works of “perfection” aren’t noticed or when I am falsely accused of something.

He lived a perfect life that I have failed a million times over to live, resisting every temptation along the way and perfectly fulfilling God’s standard for righteousness. And then He bore the full wrath of God that I deserve.

And so, there’s hope for me. He did what I couldn’t do so that I can have peace with God and peace with others. AND He has given me the Holy Spirit so that I might become more and more like him.

When I think about this, I really understand Isaiah 55:8, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”


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