Tonight, Joe Widick talks about a subject which made me cringe, the clothes my mom bought for me to wear to worship when I was little! Thanks for all of your prayers as I wind down my trip to Vietnam!
Somewhere at my mother’s home, buried away in a trunk is a picture of me in my Easter clothes. Hopefully it will remain buried there for years to come. Easter was a big day for a lot of the wrong reasons. It was a day where we (my sisters and I) dressed in special clothes that had been purchased. This particular Easter, I had a brightly colored plaid sports coat (probably put to shame Joseph’s coat of many colors). I had navy blue pants and a matching tie. For shoes my parents bought me some white buckskin shoes. We had the traditional pictures made and off we went to worship. For some reason on that particular day it was difficult for me to set still. I twisted and turned in the pew and the next thing I knew the white shoe polish from my shoes were all over my pants. To say the least mother was not too thrilled about this! Easter Sundays came and went and thankfully white buckskin shoes went out of style.
As each Easter passed I began to realize that I was hearing the same sermon each Easter. Our minister took us in our minds to Golgotha and helped us understand what our savior went through on that day he became a perfect sacrifice for you and I. I don’t remember all that he said, but there was one phrase that stood out and I still can hear it in my mind. He called it a “sickening thud”—the sound that was made as the soldiers placed the cross in its proper place between the two criminals. With each passing year that phrase sounded more and more ominous to me. The jarring that it caused, the tearing of flesh, the pain that set in at that moment, the lack of oxygen, the noise and cruel words that were spoken, the weeping of those who loved my savior. I visualized it in my mind; it became more and more real! As it became real to me, I realize now that I didn’t completely grasp why this terrible act was done. At an early age I could quote John 3:16, but yet I didn’t really understand how much God really loved me. Today far removed from those formative years in west Nashville, I still try to put my arms around the love of God for a sinner like myself. I wrestle with the fact that this was a gift for me, me personally as well as each one who reads this article and all the others who never have even heard of a loving savior.
In John 19: 30; the words of Jesus pierced the air that fateful day and he said; “It is finished.” Life was over, the suffering and humiliation had ended. Three days later He conquered death and was resurrected to be in heaven with his father. I don’t know all that will happen on that day when Christ returns to claim his own. I wonder however if he and his father will be having a conversation and the father will simply say; “It is finished."
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