What an incredible week . . . Resurrection week. I am beggar, leper, crippled, but then story changed here. When I came to that cross, that incredible, horrific, awful cross where love spoke deeper than words. Love was torn flesh, and profuse bleeding. Love was surrendering to a plan etched out long before, even though it cost everything. It is because the scars are on His hands, not mine, that I can lift my heart to Heaven and be free. I'm still broken, but someday, that broken deadness will be completely torn off, and I will be simply Child of God. What a gift undeserved. I am nothing compared to the gift. I am absolutely nothing when compared to the Giver. But He has chosen me, and I am no longer a shadow but a substance, no longer the diseased, but one in the process of healing, and it's all because of Him, Jesus.
Thank You, Jesus, for the gifts . . . the little and the big. For:
461. Colored Easter eggs
462. Those scribbles from little Brown Eyes Sunday morning . . . what a sweetheart!
463. Isaiah . . . the book I'm wading through right now. Wowzers. Good. Stuff.
464. The Armor of God . . . we can be protected, covered. Jesus provides that armor.
465. The tune of rain bouncing off the car while it's parked
466. The greens of the grass in the yards and fields.
467. Song "Albertine" by Brooke Fraser (Listen here)
468. That God is a God of justice. And mercy.
469. The power of God . . . an empty grave.
470. The passion of Yahweh, to give His Son. He should have killed me; I deserved it. But instead, He let me and many others kill Him. That is not justice. That is a mercy I don't understand. Alleluia. "This is my story!"
471. The blood of Christ . . . it covers me.
472. The protection of Jesus. He hems me in, before and behind. Safe.
473. Bird song . . . earthen melodies for a King.
474. A finished prayer journal.
475. Communion service . . . I will remember. Never ever let me forget.
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