Whether graduating from high school, college, graduate school or a training program, there is something uniquely special about transitioning from a structured, formalized educational program to an environment in which that education is expected to translate into success. It is a time to reflect upon and celebrate all the hard work, fun, and personal sacrifice that went into achieving this milestone. It’s a time to sincerely thank the parents, teachers, mentors and friends that sacrificed, supported, pushed and prodded to ensure success and happiness. It’s also a time to plan for a future that will be fulfilling, meaningful and honorable.
There are many unique and useful skills one learns through schooling, knowledge that applies directly to professional aptitude in specific disciplines. Even if one obtains the highest degree possible in a given field, there is always more that can be learned. In an increasingly competitive job market, education is more valuable than ever. Ultimate success, however, cannot be defined or quantified by a diploma in a frame or letters after one’s name. True success begins and ends with the source of our knowledge, our drive to learn, and our talents: our Father in heaven.
The working adults and retirees among us will likely all attest to the fact that one’s character and work ethic are far more important in our work than our educational attainment. I would venture to say that the majority of textbook learning is fairly useless, in and of itself. The dedication to learning the material in that textbook, to seeing it through no matter how interesting or objectionable it may be, is an indication of strength, maturity, and nobility. Such dedication can and should translate to any job that we do, whether it’s flipping burgers or running a major corporation. Such dedication is what earns us promotions, raises and – most importantly – the approval of our Creator.
Whether we are a day past graduation or decades past it, our learning never ends, nor does our obligation to work hard, treat others well, and conduct ourselves with honesty and integrity. Even if all we graduated from was the "school of hard knocks," we all have the same marching orders. They’ve come directly from the only teacher we’ll ever need, our Lord Jesus. When the textbooks are long forgotten, collecting dust on a basement shelf, the lessons from our Teacher apply eternally. If we forget them or are tempted to stray from them, His lesson plan is always at our fingertips, His Word applicable to any job, any profession, and any circumstance we may face.
This graduation season, let us all celebrate the milestones and success that our friends and family members have achieved. Let us also remember that the fruits of that hard work are born from dedication to following Jesus Christ in all that we do. Ultimate success is realized in striving daily to be His living light in our little corner of the world.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Letter to His Mother
Dear Mary,
On Mother’s Day, who better to write about than the earthly mother of our Lord and Savior? There is no woman I could admire more; for, though my own mother birthed me into this world, it is your son who gave me life. My mother raised me and nurtured me, directly impacting the woman I have become. But it is your son who has given me a purpose for living and a direction for my life.
From the very beginning, you possessed a depth of faith I have sought most of my life. Carrying the savior of the world in your womb, you did not question the truth or validity of your purpose. Although you likely felt the weight of the responsibility you bore in carrying out God’s plan, you never doubted that God would see you safely through.
I can only imagine what it was like for you to raise Jesus as any mother raises her child. I’ve often wondered if He suffered from the "terrible twos" or if He was as perfect in childhood as He was in adulthood. I’m sure that while you never forgot who He was during His younger years, you likely stepped into the daily routine all parents fall into with their children. I’m sure you grew quite attached to this fine boy, beaming with the pride and joy all mothers share.
When it was time for Jesus to start the ministry He had been called to, I wonder if you felt humble and grateful that your son had made it safely to this point, or did you feel a pang of sadness to know that His ministry would take Him to places far removed from where most mothers would dare to travel? You trusted in God’s promise that Jesus would be the long-sought savior of the people, but I can’t imagine how difficult it was to witness the cruelty and suffering heaped upon Him. Dare I say that not even the promises of the sovereign Lord can completely ease the breaking of a mother’s heart when her child suffers pain and injustice?
You and your son are joyously reunited for all eternity as He sits at the right hand of the Father. I for one am incapable of fully understanding the grace of the risen Christ. The depth of His sacrifice is incomprehensible. But the mother in me can appreciate – if only by a fraction – the depth of your sacrifice. By your faith, my Savior was born into the world to dwell among men and to set us free by grace. By your faith, the path to freedom and eternal life was paved.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mary. I can’t wait to one day meet the mother of the One who gave me life.
Sincerely,
A grateful child of our wonderful Lord
On Mother’s Day, who better to write about than the earthly mother of our Lord and Savior? There is no woman I could admire more; for, though my own mother birthed me into this world, it is your son who gave me life. My mother raised me and nurtured me, directly impacting the woman I have become. But it is your son who has given me a purpose for living and a direction for my life.
From the very beginning, you possessed a depth of faith I have sought most of my life. Carrying the savior of the world in your womb, you did not question the truth or validity of your purpose. Although you likely felt the weight of the responsibility you bore in carrying out God’s plan, you never doubted that God would see you safely through.
I can only imagine what it was like for you to raise Jesus as any mother raises her child. I’ve often wondered if He suffered from the "terrible twos" or if He was as perfect in childhood as He was in adulthood. I’m sure that while you never forgot who He was during His younger years, you likely stepped into the daily routine all parents fall into with their children. I’m sure you grew quite attached to this fine boy, beaming with the pride and joy all mothers share.
When it was time for Jesus to start the ministry He had been called to, I wonder if you felt humble and grateful that your son had made it safely to this point, or did you feel a pang of sadness to know that His ministry would take Him to places far removed from where most mothers would dare to travel? You trusted in God’s promise that Jesus would be the long-sought savior of the people, but I can’t imagine how difficult it was to witness the cruelty and suffering heaped upon Him. Dare I say that not even the promises of the sovereign Lord can completely ease the breaking of a mother’s heart when her child suffers pain and injustice?
You and your son are joyously reunited for all eternity as He sits at the right hand of the Father. I for one am incapable of fully understanding the grace of the risen Christ. The depth of His sacrifice is incomprehensible. But the mother in me can appreciate – if only by a fraction – the depth of your sacrifice. By your faith, my Savior was born into the world to dwell among men and to set us free by grace. By your faith, the path to freedom and eternal life was paved.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mary. I can’t wait to one day meet the mother of the One who gave me life.
Sincerely,
A grateful child of our wonderful Lord
Friday, May 4, 2012
Personality Prayers
You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. (James 4:3)
God's Word tells us to pray for our enemies - those who have harmed or destroyed what is sacred to us individually or collectively. But what about people who just irritate us or rub us the wrong way? There are far more folks in our everyday lives that fit this description. They are clearly not "enemies," yet we tend to regard them with similar feelings of aversion. We know we should pray for them as well, but it seems so hard to do so in a genuine way. Why is that?
God instilled in each of us a personality all our own. When these personalities intermingle, it can make for fascinating discussion, spectacular accomplishments, and also some ruffled feathers. We encounter this dynamic each day at work, at school, in our social activities, and even within our families. We each have varying levels of tolerance for varying personality quirks. Sometimes we can make it work, while other times our lack of patience and frayed nerves result in unkind words, hurt feelings or resentment. Perhaps it's hard to pray for folks who irritate us because we expect more from them than we do from enemies. A coworker or classmate might bug the daylights out of us, but they aren't out to destroy what is sacred, so why can't they just shape up and get with the program? Why should we need to pray for them to be the way we want them to be?
The answer, of course, is that we shouldn't. There's nothing wrong with wanting a rude person to be courteous or an arrogant person to take on an attitude of humility. But we should not limit our supplications to correcting what we perceive to be wrong with another person. We should also pray for our own patience and understanding (not to mention a greater understanding of our own personality quirks). Above all, we should pray for God's strength and guidance in utilizing our greatest asset: our ability to be witnesses for Christ. By approaching all our relationships - even those that irritate us - with the strength, wisdom and love of Jesus, we will have far more influence on folks than by simply cataloging their faults and praying for them to be corrected.
The next time someone makes you want to scream in frustration, take a breath and take a moment with the Lord. When we ask for help in being a witness for Christ, God will always answer. Sometimes, your relationship with the other person will change for the better, but if not, one thing is for certain: your relationship with God will grow stronger. The stronger that relationship is, the more visible Christ will become to everyone around you.
God's Word tells us to pray for our enemies - those who have harmed or destroyed what is sacred to us individually or collectively. But what about people who just irritate us or rub us the wrong way? There are far more folks in our everyday lives that fit this description. They are clearly not "enemies," yet we tend to regard them with similar feelings of aversion. We know we should pray for them as well, but it seems so hard to do so in a genuine way. Why is that?
God instilled in each of us a personality all our own. When these personalities intermingle, it can make for fascinating discussion, spectacular accomplishments, and also some ruffled feathers. We encounter this dynamic each day at work, at school, in our social activities, and even within our families. We each have varying levels of tolerance for varying personality quirks. Sometimes we can make it work, while other times our lack of patience and frayed nerves result in unkind words, hurt feelings or resentment. Perhaps it's hard to pray for folks who irritate us because we expect more from them than we do from enemies. A coworker or classmate might bug the daylights out of us, but they aren't out to destroy what is sacred, so why can't they just shape up and get with the program? Why should we need to pray for them to be the way we want them to be?
The answer, of course, is that we shouldn't. There's nothing wrong with wanting a rude person to be courteous or an arrogant person to take on an attitude of humility. But we should not limit our supplications to correcting what we perceive to be wrong with another person. We should also pray for our own patience and understanding (not to mention a greater understanding of our own personality quirks). Above all, we should pray for God's strength and guidance in utilizing our greatest asset: our ability to be witnesses for Christ. By approaching all our relationships - even those that irritate us - with the strength, wisdom and love of Jesus, we will have far more influence on folks than by simply cataloging their faults and praying for them to be corrected.
The next time someone makes you want to scream in frustration, take a breath and take a moment with the Lord. When we ask for help in being a witness for Christ, God will always answer. Sometimes, your relationship with the other person will change for the better, but if not, one thing is for certain: your relationship with God will grow stronger. The stronger that relationship is, the more visible Christ will become to everyone around you.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Faith of a Child
"Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18:17)
Between bursts of rain drops and gusts of wind this past week, my husband and I did some work around the house, getting ready for flowers and mulching. Pulling the incessant supply of weeds from the flowerbeds is, believe it or not, an activity I enjoy. It gets me outside in the fresh air doing something at my own pace that takes very little know-how. Mostly, however, I enjoy it because it reminds me of a glimpse of God’s kingdom I once witnessed while weeding my garden.
When my daughter was around two years old, she and I were outside on a sunny summer afternoon. While I pulled weeds, she played happily with her miniature garden set in the dirt nearby. In the midst of humming and digging with her little spade, she abruptly stopped what she was doing, turned around and looked beyond our backyard. She waved once and said, "Hi Great-Grandpa!" The words stunned me, since at the time she had one living great-grandfather in another state whom she had never met. I looked in the general direction of her gaze, expecting to see someone – our elderly neighbor, perhaps – that could cause her to say such a thing. Instead, I saw only grass and trees. I turned back to her and marveled at the wonder and intensity in her gaze – she was utterly absorbed in what she saw. She sat that way for a moment longer and then just as abruptly turned back to humming and digging in the dirt, as if nothing had happened.
Although I tried in my humanness to come up with a "logical" explanation, I already knew. Not only did I believe that my daughter had seen the spirit of one of her great-grandfathers, I instinctively knew that it was the specific spirit of her paternal great-grandfather who had died nearly twenty years before she was even born. I had never met him, but I’ve been told that he was a wonderful, godly man. My instinct was confirmed a week or so later, when my daughter pointed to a picture of my husband’s grandpa in my in-laws’ house and said, "There’s Great-Grandpa."
There is something to be said for the faith of a child, isn’t there? God understands it perfectly well. Whereas I sought a logical, understandable explanation for my daughter’s actions, she simply embraced the encounter with her loved one as normal. She was not surprised, frightened, or otherwise jarred by the experience. It was simply a part of her summer afternoon. There’s no telling the miraculous things we could experience if only we simply accept the sovereign power and presence of our Lord in our midst, rather than explaining Him away by our imperfect logic.
As the earth comes alive this spring, let us remember that the Lord has a handle on the complex. We need only concern ourselves with the simple fact that God is God. He always has been and He always will be. Accepting that simple truth makes the miraculous not only possible, but normal for a child of God.
Between bursts of rain drops and gusts of wind this past week, my husband and I did some work around the house, getting ready for flowers and mulching. Pulling the incessant supply of weeds from the flowerbeds is, believe it or not, an activity I enjoy. It gets me outside in the fresh air doing something at my own pace that takes very little know-how. Mostly, however, I enjoy it because it reminds me of a glimpse of God’s kingdom I once witnessed while weeding my garden.
When my daughter was around two years old, she and I were outside on a sunny summer afternoon. While I pulled weeds, she played happily with her miniature garden set in the dirt nearby. In the midst of humming and digging with her little spade, she abruptly stopped what she was doing, turned around and looked beyond our backyard. She waved once and said, "Hi Great-Grandpa!" The words stunned me, since at the time she had one living great-grandfather in another state whom she had never met. I looked in the general direction of her gaze, expecting to see someone – our elderly neighbor, perhaps – that could cause her to say such a thing. Instead, I saw only grass and trees. I turned back to her and marveled at the wonder and intensity in her gaze – she was utterly absorbed in what she saw. She sat that way for a moment longer and then just as abruptly turned back to humming and digging in the dirt, as if nothing had happened.
Although I tried in my humanness to come up with a "logical" explanation, I already knew. Not only did I believe that my daughter had seen the spirit of one of her great-grandfathers, I instinctively knew that it was the specific spirit of her paternal great-grandfather who had died nearly twenty years before she was even born. I had never met him, but I’ve been told that he was a wonderful, godly man. My instinct was confirmed a week or so later, when my daughter pointed to a picture of my husband’s grandpa in my in-laws’ house and said, "There’s Great-Grandpa."
There is something to be said for the faith of a child, isn’t there? God understands it perfectly well. Whereas I sought a logical, understandable explanation for my daughter’s actions, she simply embraced the encounter with her loved one as normal. She was not surprised, frightened, or otherwise jarred by the experience. It was simply a part of her summer afternoon. There’s no telling the miraculous things we could experience if only we simply accept the sovereign power and presence of our Lord in our midst, rather than explaining Him away by our imperfect logic.
As the earth comes alive this spring, let us remember that the Lord has a handle on the complex. We need only concern ourselves with the simple fact that God is God. He always has been and He always will be. Accepting that simple truth makes the miraculous not only possible, but normal for a child of God.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Majoring in Christ
Our life is lived by faith. We do not live by what we see in front of us. (2 Corinthians 5:7)
Last night, someone on a TV commercial said to his infant child, "You ARE going to college when you grow up." I asked my six year-old if she wanted to go to college (as if she truly understands what college is), to which she said she did. When I asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, she shrugged at first and then said she wants to be a teacher. It made me wonder...what do I want to be when I grow up?
I've worked with literally hundreds of college-aged volunteers who faced the daunting challenge of trying to answer that question. Some had always known what they wanted to be, while others were facing graduation without a clue. Still others chose to follow in the path their parents had established for them, whether they liked it or not. I changed my major in college no less than five times. What I told many of these volunteers over the years is that if you have a specific dream that you're passionate about, work hard and go after it. But try to avoid putting all your eggs in one basket, even if it's something you think you'll want to do the rest of your life. I'm living proof that your interests change with time, you add skills with age, and you discover talents along the way that you never knew you had. In the midst of those discoveries, life often has a way of throwing us curveballs that force a change in plans.
Like most adults who've been in the working world for a while, I've discovered a handful of specific things about myself that I'm both good at and interested in. The same goes for my personal hobbies and interests. I have no doubt that my list of such things will continue to evolve. This natural flux in life used to feel like something to be feared, but in reality, it is something to embrace. Think how life would be if we were forced to live forever with a finite plan we created for ourselves at age 18, when our understanding of the world and all that's in it is so limited. It's a scary thought, isn't it?
Whatever age we are, we can continue to learn, to grow and to change who we are and what we do. It doesn't matter what our diploma or resume say, if we have those things at all. The key ingredient is a solid foundation in Christ. If we strive to live out our daily lives by walking in faith, our path will be made known to us. God will unearth the talents He gave us at just the right time, so we will blossom in His will. We are free to pursue our intellectual interests and the desires of our hearts, but true success will be realized when we allow God to be our advisor.
What do you want to be when you grow up? If you're like me and you still don't know, that's okay. If we declare our major in Christ, we can't go wrong. Our opportunities are endless.
Last night, someone on a TV commercial said to his infant child, "You ARE going to college when you grow up." I asked my six year-old if she wanted to go to college (as if she truly understands what college is), to which she said she did. When I asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, she shrugged at first and then said she wants to be a teacher. It made me wonder...what do I want to be when I grow up?
I've worked with literally hundreds of college-aged volunteers who faced the daunting challenge of trying to answer that question. Some had always known what they wanted to be, while others were facing graduation without a clue. Still others chose to follow in the path their parents had established for them, whether they liked it or not. I changed my major in college no less than five times. What I told many of these volunteers over the years is that if you have a specific dream that you're passionate about, work hard and go after it. But try to avoid putting all your eggs in one basket, even if it's something you think you'll want to do the rest of your life. I'm living proof that your interests change with time, you add skills with age, and you discover talents along the way that you never knew you had. In the midst of those discoveries, life often has a way of throwing us curveballs that force a change in plans.
Like most adults who've been in the working world for a while, I've discovered a handful of specific things about myself that I'm both good at and interested in. The same goes for my personal hobbies and interests. I have no doubt that my list of such things will continue to evolve. This natural flux in life used to feel like something to be feared, but in reality, it is something to embrace. Think how life would be if we were forced to live forever with a finite plan we created for ourselves at age 18, when our understanding of the world and all that's in it is so limited. It's a scary thought, isn't it?
Whatever age we are, we can continue to learn, to grow and to change who we are and what we do. It doesn't matter what our diploma or resume say, if we have those things at all. The key ingredient is a solid foundation in Christ. If we strive to live out our daily lives by walking in faith, our path will be made known to us. God will unearth the talents He gave us at just the right time, so we will blossom in His will. We are free to pursue our intellectual interests and the desires of our hearts, but true success will be realized when we allow God to be our advisor.
What do you want to be when you grow up? If you're like me and you still don't know, that's okay. If we declare our major in Christ, we can't go wrong. Our opportunities are endless.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Fruit of the Free
My lips will call out for joy when I sing praises to You. You have set my soul free. (Psalm 71:23)
There are many things that cause us to feel joy, including loving family relationships, a devoted spouse, children, the spendor of nature. But I have not yet found anything more joyous than the love of God through His risen Son. With each passing year, I find an indescribable thankfulness for my salvation, and a bone-deep commitment to and contentment with the love of Christ.
In August of last year, I recall reading through misty eyes the story of Ameneh Bahrami, an Iranian woman who had suffered severe burns, blindness and disfigurement as a result of a 2004 attack in which acid was thrown onto her face. The man responsible for the attack, Majid Movahedi, had reacted in anger when Bahrami had refused his proposal of marriage. Movahedi was found guilty of the offense and under Iran's "eye for an eye" justice system, he faced a terrible sentence: a doctor was to put a few drops of acid into his eye. At first, Bahrami supported the sentence, but at the last moment she pleaded for her attacker to be spared, saying "I forgave him, I forgave him!" When later asked about the basis for her change of heart, she stated, "It is best to pardon when you are in a position of power."
It is imperfect at best to compare the gift of our Lord Jesus on the cross with an act of mercy by sinful people, but I can't help but to think of it: Imagine if Jesus, the Son of the Most Powerful, had opted to exact an "eye for an eye" justice for all the sins we have committed (and will commit). Imagine if He had replaced the crucifixion with a campaign of retribution. Instead, he willingly took the "acid in the eye" so we would not have to. While we were on death row, while we were yet sinners, He died for us.
While I have no way of knowing, I like to think that Majid Movahedi is now a faithful follower of Christ, having been spared a horrific punishment for his terrible crime based purely on the principle of forgiveness. I like to think that the tearful joy he expressed at being pardoned by the very person he had maimed has translated into a life based on love, compassion and forgiveness. When I think of what Jesus did for me - which far surpasses what this one Iranian woman did for the man who hurt her - I am grateful beyond measure, tearfully humbled, and joyously inspired to live by love and mercy.
If one woman can forgive a man who maimed her, then surely I can forgive another for harming me. If one woman can show mercy despite being empowered to exact revenge, then surely I can show mercy. If the very God whom I have offended countless times through my sins can forgive me and show me undeserved mercy through the sacrifice of His Son, then surely I can strive to honor Him by showing forgiveness and mercy to others. Such things are what true joy is made of. Such things are the fruit of a soul set free.
There are many things that cause us to feel joy, including loving family relationships, a devoted spouse, children, the spendor of nature. But I have not yet found anything more joyous than the love of God through His risen Son. With each passing year, I find an indescribable thankfulness for my salvation, and a bone-deep commitment to and contentment with the love of Christ.
In August of last year, I recall reading through misty eyes the story of Ameneh Bahrami, an Iranian woman who had suffered severe burns, blindness and disfigurement as a result of a 2004 attack in which acid was thrown onto her face. The man responsible for the attack, Majid Movahedi, had reacted in anger when Bahrami had refused his proposal of marriage. Movahedi was found guilty of the offense and under Iran's "eye for an eye" justice system, he faced a terrible sentence: a doctor was to put a few drops of acid into his eye. At first, Bahrami supported the sentence, but at the last moment she pleaded for her attacker to be spared, saying "I forgave him, I forgave him!" When later asked about the basis for her change of heart, she stated, "It is best to pardon when you are in a position of power."
It is imperfect at best to compare the gift of our Lord Jesus on the cross with an act of mercy by sinful people, but I can't help but to think of it: Imagine if Jesus, the Son of the Most Powerful, had opted to exact an "eye for an eye" justice for all the sins we have committed (and will commit). Imagine if He had replaced the crucifixion with a campaign of retribution. Instead, he willingly took the "acid in the eye" so we would not have to. While we were on death row, while we were yet sinners, He died for us.
While I have no way of knowing, I like to think that Majid Movahedi is now a faithful follower of Christ, having been spared a horrific punishment for his terrible crime based purely on the principle of forgiveness. I like to think that the tearful joy he expressed at being pardoned by the very person he had maimed has translated into a life based on love, compassion and forgiveness. When I think of what Jesus did for me - which far surpasses what this one Iranian woman did for the man who hurt her - I am grateful beyond measure, tearfully humbled, and joyously inspired to live by love and mercy.
If one woman can forgive a man who maimed her, then surely I can forgive another for harming me. If one woman can show mercy despite being empowered to exact revenge, then surely I can show mercy. If the very God whom I have offended countless times through my sins can forgive me and show me undeserved mercy through the sacrifice of His Son, then surely I can strive to honor Him by showing forgiveness and mercy to others. Such things are what true joy is made of. Such things are the fruit of a soul set free.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Autobiography of a Common Criminal
It figures that I would end up here, affixed to a cross of wood in front of this self-righteous, blood-thirsty mob. I’m surprised it took this long to stare death square in the face. Truth be told, I’ve been dying a slow, painful death long before I came to this place they call "the Skull." I am a wretched man, a criminal who has wasted the bulk of my life gratifying myself by cheating and hurting others. I’ve squandered so many opportunities to do the right thing, to love and honor the people in my life instead of using them. Oh, how I wish I could go back and change things, change myself. I am exactly where I deserve to be, dying this barbaric death with my shame exposed for all to see. There is nothing for me to do but hang here and die.
But there’s this man hanging next me on His own cross. They’ve beaten Him so severely I can barely tell that He’s a man at all. The riotous crowd is directing the bulk of its hatred toward Him, mocking Him as if His physical wounds aren’t punishment enough. I heard them chanting "king of the Jews," and that’s when I realized who He is. He’s the man called Jesus, the one who claims to be the very Son of God Himself. He has said that a home in heaven awaits those who trust in Him. The crowd and another criminal on the other side of Jesus are taunting and insulting Him. My heart breaks for Him. Isn’t He the one who’s been teaching the people to love one another? What did He ever do to deserve such punishment? He never cheated, stole, or hurt anyone the way I have, and yet He’s here with me, in far worse shape than I am. What gives them the right to do this to someone like Him?
It’s getting harder to breathe. It won’t be long now. My time is running out, like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. I don’t know how Jesus survived the beating He took before they nailed Him to the wood, but He’s still alive. He’s struggling pretty badly, so if I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. But how can I? How can I, a common criminal, request anything of someone so innocent in His final, agonizing moments? On the other hand, how can I not? This is my last chance to make things right, to have a chance at something beyond this garish place. Jesus said that He wants us to put our faith in Him. Is now too late? Does He have enough love and forgiveness left for me? Does He know how sorry I am for the mess I’ve made of my life, for the suffering I’ve caused? Does He believe that I want to be with Him? Is the very hour of my death too late to ask for life?
I don’t know if I have enough breath to make my voice work. The man on the other side of Jesus doesn’t seem to be having a problem. He keeps spitting insults. Something about his cruelty gives me the strength I need to speak and I say to him, "Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong." I look from the criminal to Jesus, a lifetime of regret and an eternity of hope staring at the broken body of the King of the Jews. With all the energy left in my weary body, my voice speaks the pleading of my heart, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
The Son of God turns His head toward me, the crown of thorns digging ever deeper into His scalp. He is literally bathed in blood, a sight more terrifying than anything I’ve ever seen. But then our eyes meet. Through the blood and anguish of human cruelty surrounding them, I see in His eyes the hope of generations, the very light of God staring back at me with a love I’ve never allowed myself to experience. Before He even speaks, even through the agony He is enduring, I see it in His eyes and for the first time, I know: He does love me. He does forgive me. I am more than what I have been. I am His. His swollen lips part and from the mouth of the Savior comes this blessed assurance:
"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."
But there’s this man hanging next me on His own cross. They’ve beaten Him so severely I can barely tell that He’s a man at all. The riotous crowd is directing the bulk of its hatred toward Him, mocking Him as if His physical wounds aren’t punishment enough. I heard them chanting "king of the Jews," and that’s when I realized who He is. He’s the man called Jesus, the one who claims to be the very Son of God Himself. He has said that a home in heaven awaits those who trust in Him. The crowd and another criminal on the other side of Jesus are taunting and insulting Him. My heart breaks for Him. Isn’t He the one who’s been teaching the people to love one another? What did He ever do to deserve such punishment? He never cheated, stole, or hurt anyone the way I have, and yet He’s here with me, in far worse shape than I am. What gives them the right to do this to someone like Him?
It’s getting harder to breathe. It won’t be long now. My time is running out, like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. I don’t know how Jesus survived the beating He took before they nailed Him to the wood, but He’s still alive. He’s struggling pretty badly, so if I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. But how can I? How can I, a common criminal, request anything of someone so innocent in His final, agonizing moments? On the other hand, how can I not? This is my last chance to make things right, to have a chance at something beyond this garish place. Jesus said that He wants us to put our faith in Him. Is now too late? Does He have enough love and forgiveness left for me? Does He know how sorry I am for the mess I’ve made of my life, for the suffering I’ve caused? Does He believe that I want to be with Him? Is the very hour of my death too late to ask for life?
I don’t know if I have enough breath to make my voice work. The man on the other side of Jesus doesn’t seem to be having a problem. He keeps spitting insults. Something about his cruelty gives me the strength I need to speak and I say to him, "Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong." I look from the criminal to Jesus, a lifetime of regret and an eternity of hope staring at the broken body of the King of the Jews. With all the energy left in my weary body, my voice speaks the pleading of my heart, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
The Son of God turns His head toward me, the crown of thorns digging ever deeper into His scalp. He is literally bathed in blood, a sight more terrifying than anything I’ve ever seen. But then our eyes meet. Through the blood and anguish of human cruelty surrounding them, I see in His eyes the hope of generations, the very light of God staring back at me with a love I’ve never allowed myself to experience. Before He even speaks, even through the agony He is enduring, I see it in His eyes and for the first time, I know: He does love me. He does forgive me. I am more than what I have been. I am His. His swollen lips part and from the mouth of the Savior comes this blessed assurance:
"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."
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