What Will We Do?

Spring! Blooming trees, tulips, buttercups, pansies, wild green onions, weeping willows, breeze-tickled ponds and streams. The days’ soundtrack harmonizes cardinals cheering; chickadees chick-a-dee, dee, deeing; children giggling; lawnmowers humming.

Spring, for me, equals resurrection wonder. But with the beauty and wonder comes a nauseating mindfulness. The life, death and resurrection certainly didn't look or sound much like the beauty I see in spring days.

Rereading the story of Jesus' last days, his betrayal, and crucifixion, I see that most of life and the way I perceive it, the way I pursue it, the way I process it evolves around the answer to one question: What will I do with Jesus?

The Jewish leaders decided what they would do with Jesus. The following He was gaining, the work He was doing, the claims to be the Son of God had to be stopped. Unable to end His life under their laws, they took Jesus to Pilate with a plan. The shifting of responsibilities and the blame game was on.

But Pilate knew how to play, too. "What are your charges against this man?" said Pilate to the angry mob. "Well, we'd not have brought him here if he'd not committed evil," they retort.

Pilate serves, "Then take him and judge him by your laws."

"Well, by our laws we can't kill him – we can kill no one under our laws," they return.

So the death game continues, back and forth, the volley of the ball of guilt. Players, they thought. Oh, little did they know……

Before time began, before a single one of them had breathed their first breath the Plan was in place. God knew there was no winning the games we would play without a perfect redeeming Lamb.
They thought they were directing an end to their problems, when, in fact, they were part of an ends to the means of saving a world that would die an eternal, hopeless death without a Savior. So He came……

So spring comes every year, to the earth, to my heart, to the world. It comes in the beauty of nature. It comes in the shadow of the cross; in the damp coolness of a tomb, rock rolled back, death cloths emptied, morning sun peeking through a symphony of birdsong.

Praise God, Jesus came; he died; he arose; and He's coming again!

What will I do with Jesus? What will you do with Jesus?


I've often thought of the Mary's that were with Christ that day. A mother following her son as he is beaten, spat on, cursed and feeling a paliatable hate from the mob. The other Mary who loved him enough to have died in his place but both knowing it was he alone who had to do it. His love was greater than his fear. He loved his Mary's and each man and woman in the mob, the men that drove the nails and the soilders dividing his clothes. Now that's love. To love those that don't love you and probably never will. That's the love of Christ. The love he expects us to have for each other.
Tina said…
So beautifully spoken! I pray He will help me love deeper and deeper. God bless yog! Thanks for stopping by!

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