Jesus' Sacrifice

About a week ago, before bed, I was thinking about Jesus. I was wondering about how much I actually loved Him. For some reason, I couldn't get myself to feel very strongly. I know, pathetic. But I started to think of His sacrifice in terms that were easier for me to understand. I applied His gift to today and thought about how I would feel if a friend made a much smaller sacrifice for me. I started thinking, and then I started writing. I hope this might help you grasp Jesus' love a little better today.

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Long ago, there was a Man. I didn’t know Him; I wasn’t in existence yet. But He knew me. He knew who I would be. He knew my strengths, my weaknesses, which of His words would speak the most to me. He knew my favorite songs, the number of times I’m get frustrated with people, and the day I would die. He knew me better than my mother, better than my dearest friend. He knew who I would be. He knew I would be a horrid, ever-failing, flawed human being.

He knew I was destined for hell. He knew I would suffer and burn in excruciating agony for eternity, and He knew I would not even understand this horrific place before I got there. And He cared for me. He took compassion on me. He never sinned. He never snapped unrighteous at His brother, never fancied lustful thoughts, never held anyone or anything in higher regard than His Father.

His Father decided that, with the same love this Man felt for me, he would change my eternal ending place. He loved me so much that He decided to rescue me from my impending suffering in hell. He not only removed that horrendous fate, but He decided to prepare a place for me in His glorious kingdom, where goodness is far more unfathomable than the torture in hell is terrible.

But the Father was also just. He couldn’t simply remove the punishment from such a despicable failure as I.

The man who loved me far more than I could ever love Him or any other raised His hand. He said, “Father, punish me instead of her. We love her so much. We want her to be with Us – and this is the only way. I will not fail Your test of living a perfect life. Let me live and be killed instead of her. Let Us give her the Spirit to bring her to Us after she is born. Then she will begin to understand this sacrifice I will make for her.”

And so the time came when this Man, who I could not yet know, carried His own wooden cross to the place He was to be hammered to it. Men and women who refused to believe hit him and sneered at Him. But He thought of me and all my brothers and sisters who had and were going to trust Him to pay the impossible cost for their sins. He let them tear all His clothes off. He did not fight when they drove nails through his hands and feet, attaching him to the cross He had carried. Many people hated Him and showed their loathing openly as He hung there for all to see, dying a slow and horrid death.

This Man who I did not know did this for me. I’d be shocked and touched if my friend gave up a ticket to a big show for me. He gave up His perfect account so I could go to heaven. I love Him so much. Thank you, Jesus.