Prodigal.

I used to think "prodigal" meant something like "wayward" or "rebellious" because of the Prodigal Son story in the gospel of Luke.

What it actually means is

prod·i·gal

  [prod-i-guhl]  

adjective

1.

wastefully or recklessly extravagant

2.

giving or yielding profusely; lavish 

3.

lavishly abundant; profuse

Quite a different definition.

Which is the platform off of which Tim Keller's The Prodigal God springs. I recently read this short book (which is available in English and Italian! And I highly recommend it), and the main idea is that God is "recklessly extravagant" and "lavishly abundant" in His love toward us.

Only a "prodigal" God would behave like the father in the parable. After His son had squandered his inheritance and was reduced to a state of near starvation, he decides to return home and beg to become merely a servant in his father's house. But "while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him" (Luke 15:20). He calls for a grand celebration and spares no expense as he welcomes him back into the family. And he counts it all as joy.

"'For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and now he is found.'" (Luke 15:24)

In the same way, regardless of our sinful, runaway hearts and our tendency to succumb to selfish desires, our Father will accept us back if we are willing to come home and ask for forgiveness.

But this story isn't just about how far the "prodigal son" was from his father when he demanded his inheritance (essentially wishing his father was dead) and ran away to spend his money on whatever he thought would truly make him happy. No, there is another brother in the story that we often gloss over. And, because Jesus told this story to the pompously puffed-up religious leaders who were criticizing him for eating with "sinners," this elder brother deserves a closer look.

The elder brother becomes angry and bitterly envious that his younger brother receives special treatment even after all he has done. He takes pride in his good deeds. He feels slighted because he has earned his father's love. He's done everything in his power to deserve it.

"'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered you property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'" (Luke 15:29-30)

So we focus on this lost younger brother and don't often dwell on the fact that the older brother was just as lost, if not more so. After all, at the end of the parable, we don't actually know if he made amends with his father. 

This elder brother represents those of the moral, "religious" classification who do not fulling grasp the gift of grace. 

Keller puts it this way: "The elder brother is not losing the father's love in spite of his goodness, but because of it. It is not his sins that create the barrier between him and his father, it's the pride he has in his moral record; it's not his wrongdoing but his righteousness that is keeping him from sharing in the feast of the father."

He also sums up the sinful motives in both brothers' hearts by saying that they both "wanted the father's goods rather than the father himself."

That was convicting for me. How much of my praise flows out of thankfulness for His gifts and not Jesus Himself? How many times do I ask for the things I want and human relationships to fill me up when I should be resting in and marveling at who He is and what He's done? I am so selfish.

And how much do I think I "deserve" those good things because of what I do? I strive to be "good enough" and "obedient," which isn't in itself a horrible thing, but it is when I look to my own strength and "goodness" to save me. No, Elizabeth. That completely negates the gospel.

"If, like the elder brother, you believe that God ought to bless you and help you because you have worked so hard to obey him and be a good person, then Jesus may be your helper, your example, even your inspiration, but he is not your Savior. You are serving as your own Savior." (The Prodigal God)

Ouch. Churchgoers and "religious" folk, may we never become complacent concerning our need for Him. May we never forget the importance (and joy) of a relationship with Him. Christ alone. Not what He can do for you or give you. He's so much more than that.

Okay that's all I've got. Read the book and we'll talk about it :)

Love from Rome,

Elizabeth

Out of the Dust

I just cleaned an embarrassing amount of dust out from under my bed. 

That's partly because I just never sweep under there. But also I'm convinced there's a dust/pollen/floating particle epidemic in Italy. Seriously. Stuff, in daunting sizes and quantities, drifts through the air and into your nose and eyes and throat and you sneeze and tear up and cough and it's just not fun.

I'm pretty sure nobody likes dust. It's dirty. It makes you sneeze. Having a layer of gray fluff on your furniture just isn't attractive. 

But as I was dumping those unseemly balls of dirt and debris into my trashcan, I couldn't get that Gungor song out of my head:

"You make beautiful things, 

you make beautiful things out of the dust.

You make beautiful things,

you make beautiful things out of us."

After all, God made man from the dust of the earth:

"Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." -Genesis 2:7

I've never really thought about how incredible it is that God took the lowliest, most mundane thing and transformed it into something as beautiful and complex as the human body. But God has a way of doing that…of taking the lowly things, "the least of these," and using them for his glory.

"God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not - to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God - that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption." -1 Corinthians 1:27-30

In the same way, He can take our dust, our dirt, our broken pieces, our ruins, and make them beautiful. He can change us and use us despite our deficiencies and just our absolute mess. "But we have this treasure in jays of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." (2 Corinthians 4:7)

Just as flowers bloom after the long grayness and lifelessness of winter, He has the power to create and resurrect. Spring feels hopeful in that way, doesn't it? Seeing new life in flowers and plants and birds and sunshine. The good news is that there IS hope for new life in the one who "swallowed up death in victory." (1 Corinthians 15:54, Isaiah 25:8). The One who, Himself, arose from the dead.

And now as I listen to the rain hitting the balcony outside my window, I think about how he can cleanse us from the old, from the dust.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come." -2 Corinthians 5:17

In case you haven't heard the Gungor song, Beautiful Things, give it a listen. This video is my favorite visual interpretation of it. I hope it gets stuck in your head too ;) "You make me new, You are making me new…"

"He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'" -Revelation 21:5

Stay thirsty, my friends.

Living in another country is hard.

I'm tired all the time because I have to process information in a foreign language and I'm constantly meeting and talking to new people. Even going to the grocery store makes me a little anxious because I might not be able to find something or I may have to ask for help in Italian. Even something as seemingly simple as paying my cell phone bill can end up taking all afternoon. Courtney and I have different keys, so she's accidentally locked me inside the apartment a couple of times (true story). I also can't just hop in my car (because I don't have one) and drive somewhere (because I can't drive stick, and that's all they have here) so getting somewhere may take an hour on foot or by metro/bus, so it's just not possible to get a ton of things done in one day. And when I leave my house in the morning, I better not forget anything because there's a good chance I won't come back until late that night.

BUT. Living in another country is a blast.

I get to learn a new language. I'm constantly meeting and talking to new people. I'm learning so many eccentricities about this beautiful, quirky culture. People are generally friendly and go out of their way to help and spend time with me (several people have invited us for dinner, and just today one sweet friend gave us a list of free language programs she had researched for us as well as inexpensive hairdressers!). I laugh when I get locked in the apartment (because really…who else would that happen to?). Maybe not driving is a little inconvenient, but walking is great exercise and the metro only has two lines so it's super simple to navigate. And being so busy that I'm rarely home is preferable to being a bored, friendless recluse who sits in a dark corner of her bedroom nibbling on pizza bianca and watching American TV shows online. 

So as I take a step back from the emotional roller coaster that is living overseas...analyzing the positives and negatives, frustrations and joys….one thing is certain:

Living in another country makes me (somewhat painfully) aware of my neediness.

I was talking recently with another American who just moved to Rome as well, and he said that is something that has struck him the most: It's human nature to shy away from weakness, submission or dependence. Neediness is seen as a negative quality. But living overseas makes it virtually impossible to deny our dependency. We have to ask for help. I depended on people to show me how to apply to, ya know, legally live here (which you have to do at the post office within eight days of arriving, by the way), to continually correct my language failures, to show me around this unfamiliar city, to teach me how to make Italian-style coffee and typical Roman pasta dishes…the list goes on.

But above all else, being here and feeling lonely and struggling with negativity and frustrations and homesickness reminds me every moment of how desperately I need the Lord. I know it would be impossible for me to survive the next two years without prayer and daily encouragement, fortification and just flat-out, straight-up truth from His Word.

And I want to go through life like that…being so thirsty for Him and His help and His truth alone and knowing that only He can truly satisfy my needs.

I love the imagery in Psalm 42: "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God." I imagine that feeling of coming back from a run and being so exhausted and thirsty that you drink a whole bottle of water without stopping to take a breath. I pray that my soul always thirsts for the living God, that I desire to be with Him and spend time with Him and with other believers. Anything else would leave me soul-sick and empty.

David wrote Psalm 63 when he was in the Desert of Judah, and it's such an encouragement to me when I feel like I'm in a "desert," emotionally or spiritually:

"O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land 
where there is no water.

I have seen you in the sanctuary
and beheld your power and your glory.
Because your love is better than life
my lips will glorify you.
I will praise you as long as I live,
and in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods;
with singing my mouth will praise you.

On my bed I remember you;
I think of you though the watches of the night.
Because you are my help, 
I sing in the shadow of your wings…"

Gosh. I love that.

So yeah, living here is humbling. I feel dumb every day. I make mistakes constantly. I do not know it all. I'm never as kind or compassionate or selfless as I should be. Thank God for His grace and mercy and for that of the people around me.

But even on my worst, most self-depricating days, I can and do and MUST "sing in the shadow of His wings."

We're all human. We all have needs and desires. We all try to fill these little holes in our lives with something. But…

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled." (Matthew 5:6)

So. Stay thirsty, my friends ;) And allow Him to fill you.

Love from Rome, 

Elizabeth

Babbling

I still can't believe I live in Italy now. It's different from anything I've ever known or any place I've ever lived, but I love it. I love the people I work with with and new friends and the food and the coffee and the climate and my apartment and the fact that I live within a walk or a metro ride from a vast array of ancient, architectural beauty. 

Some adjustments are tough, and I guess I'm still in the "honeymoon phase," but all in all it's already starting to feel like home.

One of the major challenges, though, is learning a new language. I'm amazed by so many people I've met here who can speak multiple languages. Apparently it's not uncommon for Europeans to learn Italian, English and French, for example, from a very young age. Or German. Or Spanish. And here I am making what often feels like a pitiful attempt to be merely conversational in something other than what I've spoken all my life. 

So I've struggled with that a bit. I realize you can't learn a new language overnight (and hey, appropriately enough, Rome wasn't built in a day, right?), but I can't tell you how frustrating it is not to be able to communicate what you're thinking in a language the people around you will understand. And I often feel mentally deficient when everyone from small children to sweet "nonnas" (grandmothers) start gibbering away to me in Italian and I can barely recognize one word. So I am typically pretty oblivious to what's going on around me and I usually feel intellectually inadequate, to put it nicely.

In an effort not to be taken for a deaf-mute for the next two years, I'm going to language school. Fittingly, my school is called "Torre di Babele," which in English is "The Tower of Babel." It really is perfectly named, considering the diversity of the students there. In my class alone, there is a Russian lady, a Libyan medical student, a Japanese girl, a Turkish guy, a French girl, a Brazilian lady, a man from Belgium, and a Nigerian nun. My teacher doesn't speak English, so asking questions in English doesn't do any good. None of us can really speak our heart language with anyone else in the class. 

That's crazy, isn't it? It really does make me think of the Tower of Babel story in the Bible and how the thousands of different languages originally came to be.

In Genesis 11, the Bible tells us that "the whole world had one language and a common speech." But their pride and vaulting ambition was their downfall. They tried to build a tower that would reach to the heavens so they could make a name for themselves. 

They sought their own glory and forgot that all glory belongs to the God of the universe.

To display His power and teach them a lesson in humility, "the Lord confused the language of the whole world. From there the Lord scattered them over the face of the whole earth."

Can you imagine what that must have been like for those people? To be able to understand each other perfectly one minute and the next everyone is babbling seemingly incoherently? I'm sure they felt as frustrated as I do when I don't know the Italian word for the thought I wish to express or question I want to ask or explanation I want to give.

There are many things I learn from this story. One being that it's ridiculous to try to go above God's head or accomplish something apart from him or for my own glory. Look what happened to Satan when he tried that…he was once an angel and was cast out of heaven! I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but not apart from his strength and power.

So another thing is humility. Plain and simple. And I can imagine few things that could humble a person more than trying to learn an entirely new language. And I mean, gosh, I have it easy compared to many people I know. At least I took Spanish in high school and verb conjugation and some vocabulary words are similar. I would probably spend my days in a puddle of tears if I was trying to learn Arabic or Thai or Mandarin right now. To the friends I know that have done that, I salute you.

Language learning is humbling because it makes us (sometimes painfully) aware that we do not know everything. We have to ask for help. From God and from people around us. And luckily, people here aren't shy about correcting your grammar and pronunciation. So you make a fool of yourself and you learn.

Another thing the Tower of Babel story shows me is how exquisitely dynamic our world is because God created different languages. People dispersed and spread and formed different cultures. We are all so beautifully different, yet so innately similar. So as frustrating as it can be to have linguistic failures of communication, how bland would the world be without different cultures?

I also think that's part of getting to know people here. You get to be the stupid American with the verbal capacity of a three-year-old (an honestly, that's being generous). The locals get to laugh at you, and you get to depend on them to explain things. 

It's difficult, but doable. And I am praying for the "gift of tongues." It's going to take a miracle for me to be able to express myself clearly in Italian. But I am grateful for struggles (even though I know this one is comparatively more minuscule than most), because they make me more acutely aware of my need for Him.

I literally cannot do this whole language-learning, overseas-living thing without Him. I need to draw my strength and sustenance and satisfaction and joy from Him alone. I need to stay connected to the Vine.

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing." -John 15:5

I have to abide in Him.

So here's to hoping I'll bear the "fruit" of full sentences in Italian soon :)

Love from Rome (what a joy it is to finally be able to say that!!),

Elizabeth

Advent

Advent is a season of waiting…expectantly awaiting the arrival of our Messiah and anticipating the celebration of His birth.

I'm sure it's different in many churches, and I'm not exactly sure when and where this tradition originated, but at our church we light a candle signifying a different aspect of Advent each of the four Sundays before Christmas:

Hope. Peace. Joy. Love.

One way the Lord has really blessed me lately is to allow my emotions and experiences to coincide with these four gifts from above that we celebrate throughout December. 

Let me explain.

Hope.

We celebrated Hope on Dec. 1, the day before I went back to the consulate with the hope of acquiring a visa. This was the third and final shot. A long shot, to say the least. But we were hopeful. The appointment wasn't perfect…we waited for two hours, only to be told that they'd have to deliberate further and would email us if more information was required. 

I went away a bit downcast and frustrated, honestly. To me, the situation was now hopeless. There was nothing further I, in my own wisdom, strength or power, could do to convince them I "deserved" or was qualified for this visa when they seemed to have decided otherwise. Christ alone could work a miracle to change hearts and minds. It was out of my hands, out of my control.

But I clung to the hope and assurance that He "is at God's right hand--with angels, authorities and powers in submission to him" (1 Peter 3:22). Even government workers.

The next week, I did pray for a miracle, but I also prayed for clarity about what to do if the door to Italy was closed and barred for good. Within that week, and really within the span of one day, a beautiful opportunity to be a traveling writer in Southeast Asia solidified. Suddenly, this possibility became real and exciting…I could visualize living there with friends I made during training and I was thrilled by the prospect of playing a small part in telling God's story of salvation in Asia. 

That's where Peace came in. 

By the following Sunday, on which we focused on Peace, God had granted me this incredible sense of spiritual tranquility. He had quieted my soul. I was willing and equally excited about either direction He would take me. Admittedly, Southeast Asia would be more unfamiliar and probably a rougher transition, after all this time preparing mentally, emotionally and logistically for Italy. But I surrendered Rome. I laid it down. I wanted God's will, whatever it was.

"Take my will and make it Thine…It shall be no longer mine."

So that's where I was. Ready to go either place, but just yearning and crying out, "Lord, send me! Please use me somewhere!" I was just so ready to go. Tired of waiting. In pain and struggling beneath the burden of uncertainly. Trusting, but soul-sick.

And then…

Joy.

Two days after our Joy Sunday, I got a phone call from my Logistics Coordinator. He'd gotten an email from the consulate that my visa was being "issued/shipped."

I was going to Italy.

Holy smokes! Is this real life?! I did nothing but wait for three weeks. I. Did. NOTHING. Which means, of course, that Christ alone gets the glory! He worked a miracle, and I still can't believe or understand it. 

And now it really feels official! My visa came in the mail yesterday. The best Christmas gift I could ask for. Thanks, God :)

I just…I'm speechless. God is so sovereign and gracious and good. Nothing and no one can diminish His glory…"He WILL be exalted among the nations, He will be exalted in all the earth." And I can't wait to watch Him display His glory in Rome. Y'all…I get to see that. I'm overwhelmed. I can't wait. I'm amazed. I'm in love.

So, Love…

I love Jesus. I love all of you for reading these and praying for me and encouraging me when I felt like I just couldn't stand this ache anymore. I love Italians, even though I don't know that many yet. I pray that God would give me a love for everyone I encounter, that in doing so, they would be able "to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that [they] may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3:18-19)

After all, "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." (Galatians 5:6)

So on this Christmas Eve, I pray you feel that love…that you would fully grasp and embrace the love poured out on all of us by our Father by sending His Son. That we could love like He did, laying down our very lives for the good of others. That we would be as selfless as our Savior. That we would be totally knocked on our butts by the immensity of His love for us…such imperfect, screwed up beings. That we could be changed by that love. That we would love others because of it.

We love because He first loved us.

So Merry Christmas! I love you all! Have a wonderful day celebrated what it's really about…Immanuel. God with us. I pray He'll be born in your heart today.

Oh yeah, and I don't have to start a new blog that doesn't say "Love from Rome." And soon I can legitimately say that!!!! :D

But until then, and probably this one last time…

Love from Home,

Elizabeth

Strengths & Weaknesses

I have a lot of thoughts.

So much so that I often have trouble deciding what to write for these things. Or rather I struggle staying focused on one thing and not spiderwebbing off in a million directions. Like I do in my brain.

But something I've been pondering a lot lately is the concept of strength and weakness. Usually strength versus weakness. Usually with strength being desirable and weakness having a negative connotation.

But that's not really realistic and it's not really biblical.

When strength is discussed in the Bible, it is more often the admission that our strength is not our own but only that which is imparted to us by our Almighty God. Here are some examples of what I mean…that I literally stumbled across this morning (isn't it great how God, quite literally, speaks to us through His word, even when we don't really have a clear idea of what it is we need to hear?):

"Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord, is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation." -Isaiah 12:2

"Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, 'My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God'? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak." -Isaiah 40:27-29

That's really encouraging to me right now, because I feel so weak. And I am like doubting Israel, crying out to God, wondering if He's really got this under control. Wondering if He really does have an ultimate, glorious plan and this delayed departure for Italy or even my total reassignment to another country is really a part of it. Wondering why this is happening…what He's doing…if He cares…Wondering if He's forgotten about me…feeling disregarded and rejected.

Nope. Wrong.

Check this out:

"I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, 'You are my servant'; I have chosen you and not rejected you. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." -Isaiah 41:9-10

Boom.

Well said, God. You haven't forgotten about me. You haven't rejected me (even if the Italian government ultimately does). I'm still Your servant and You will still use me to do things I can only do through Your strength at work within me.

I know He's refining me throughout this waiting and disappointment, like gold and silver in the fire. And that refining fire isn't exactly a comfortable heating pad…seat warmer…hot tub… So many analogies. I cannot pick.

And let me pause there for a second…Disappointment. All disappointment is the result of unmet expectations. I'm disappointed because I expected to be in Italy with people I've already grown to love, using art as a ministry tool and sharing the love of Christ with people in the community. But I'm here. At home. Feeling useless and worthless and restless. Potentially missing out on beautiful opportunities right in front of me if I let myself slip into pity party territory.

Kind of like how many Jews totally missed out on the blessing and joy and wonder and salvation of Jesus Christ because they expected a different fulfillment of their prophesies. Even though He really does fulfill everything written about Him in the Old Testament, many religious leaders of His day expected Him to come in power and glory as a warrior king bent of vindication. Instead, He came as a baby born in a barn who became a carpenter that associated with thieves and prostitutes and entered their city riding on a donkey. He embodied truth and love, but He wasn't what they thought He would be. And they crucified Him for it.

Spiderweb. Back to strength and weakness.

Again, I feel really weak. But I do realize that I need that. I need to be broken. Of my pride and my self-reliance and my expectations and my determination to be in control. If there's one thing this whole visa application thing has taught me, it's that I truly have no control whatsoever. I am at the mercy of the authorities, but mostly of God (All angels, authorities and powers are in submission to Him, after all (1 Peter 3:22). So I am confident that if and when He sees fit to obliterate any barrier keeping me from where He wants me, He has the power to do so.).

So I'll close with this, because I feel like we can all relate to Paul here:

"To keep me from becoming conceited…there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties, for when I am weak, then I am strong." -2 Corinthians 12:7-10

The Christ Figure

I remember learning about the Christ figure in English classes. A relatively common literary technique, a Christ figure is a character who shares obvious similarities with Jesus. Normally, he or she is a "savior" type figure, often sacrificing his or her life for the greater good and sometimes, like Christ, is marvelously and miraculously resurrected. 

One of the most famous (and perhaps most intentional, as far as the author was concerned) is Aslan in C.S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Narnia's fierce yet gentle lion-king did not have to die. He willingly took Edmund's place...He saved his life. And in his power, he came back to life to defeat the evil queen once and for all.

Kind of like how Christ died in our place, even though we could never deserve such an extravagant gift of grace. Kind of like how he conquered death, Hell and the grave. He has won the war against evil.

Even the show with which I've been pretty obsessed for the past couple of years has (however perhaps inadvertent or unplanned) biblical parallels. This may be a stretch, but Once Upon a Time hinges on the actions of "the savior" and stresses the importance of being "a believer." Emma's son even sacrificed himself in the first season so that the curse would be broken and all the characters would believe the truth.

Another huge one is Harry Potter. I'll argue with anyone who says is just a bunch of satanic mumbo-jumbo because it's about witchcraft. 

Now, I really don't know if J.K. Rowling is a Believer or if she has ever read the Bible. But Harry Potter is a Christ figure. And Voldemort (Hello!! He looks like a snake, has a pet snake, can speak a hissing snake language...remember the Garden of Eden??) is a Satan-like figure. He is the epitome of evil and darkness. And Harry, "the Chosen One," was prophetically destined to defeat him. And by what drastic measure must that happen?

(SPOILER ALERT!!!) His own sacrificial death.

Harry willingly walks right up to Voldemort, allowing himself to be murdered so that no more of the good guys would have to die. And what's more, he didn't stay dead, leaving the rest to defeat the bad guys. He came back to life and personal vanquished Voldemort.

Call me a nerd if you want to. I will always love Harry Potter.

But none of these stories...none of these Christ figures measures up to our Jesus. To what really happened. To what he truly did for us on that cross.

I watched The Passion of the Christ for the first time the other day, and I was an emotional wreck for two solid hours. And the conviction of my inadequacy and wretchedness and the extremity of His sacrifice hit me like a brick wall.

Oh, the love. That He would willingly give His life for mine.

And have you seen that movie?? It's basically two hours of torture. And with every crack of a whip and every blow that drew blood, I thought...that was for me. I deserve that.

"It was my sin that held him there...until it was accomplished..."

How deep the Father's love for us, indeed.

But He who knew no sin voluntarily took the beating and the brutal death for my sake. For your sake.

"Greater love has no one than this, that he would lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13

And then..."Bursting forth in glorious day, up from the grave He rose again!"

And that is why we have hope. Therein lies our salvation. In His power and His glory He didn't stay dead but did what no one else could have done: Shouldering the weight of the world and the sins of all mankind, He rose again and assumed His rightful place at the right-hand of the Father. And He's up there still. On His throne. The Living God who also lives in the heart of every Believer.

Man. That's good stuff. 

"Oh, how I love Jesus...because He first loved me."