Easter is a close second to my favorite holiday.
It gives me goosebumps, chills. It warms my soul, yet sombers my spirit.
It gives me hope and fuels the urgency in my heart for the lost.
Good Friday has always been a day filled with emotion.
Today, as my mind and heart race with the thoughts of what is remembered this week, tomorrow, this weekend. The sacrifice my Father gave for me.
The death that was had for my life.
The life lost so I would be found.
The pain. The misery.
It overwhelms.
I cannot help it.
While I am playing the part of the bunny, hiding eggs and baking treats, yet trying desperately not to lose the meaning to my children.
Fervently snatching up every chance to teach them, in child's terms, about the death and resurrection of a Savior.
I smile, yet my heart breaks.
I laugh, but real, physical, hot tears sting my face with no warning.
How could He die.
For me?
And knowing the evil in my heart.
Knowing beforehand how little I would thank Him.
How I'd be ashamed of Him at times.
How I'd be too busy, passive, quiet to proclaim His word.
Knowing the truth.
The depths of my heart
That I would fail.
That I'd try, but really not.
That I would not deserve it.
Nor earn it.
How
He loves me.
Like none could.
Like none will.
Like I cannot.
He adores me.
He desires to be with me.
He bled so that I may not.
And so, as I am overcome with gratitude, emotion, love.
Confused by grace, sacrifice, depths I cannot grasp.
The same words keep running through my mind. They are the reflection of my heart this day. As I prepare for tomorrow.
Good Friday.
Easter.
Resurrection Day.
"What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
This is all my hope and peace,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Now by this I’ll overcome—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus,
Now by this I’ll reach my home—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Glory! Glory! This I sing—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus,
All my praise for this I bring—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus."
