Dying for You

Dying for You

Is there something you believe God has promised but it hasn’t happened? Do you feel that God has abandoned you in your need? That He doesn't understand? How can the Savior who died for you not understand your pain? He is there for you right now. Lay your guilt, your discouragement, your suffering, your failures, your disappointment, and your heart at the foot of His cross, and look at Him.

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        “Why didn't it come true?” she cried. “I believed. I had hope.”

        He said nothing.

        “Do you even hear me?”

        “I hear you, child,” He said softly.

        “But I thought you promised.” Facedown, defeated and blinded by heartbreak, she laid on the ground beneath him on the cross, 

        “I’m dying right now,” He whispered. “Dying for you.”

        She could not look at him.

        “Look at me, child.”

        “What do you want from me?” she cried. “Just what do I need to do?”

        “Nothing, but look at me.” His voice, soft against the darkened afternoon, resonated with longing. “Please look at me.”

        She was afraid of what she would see.

        “All I ask is that you look. Is that too much to ask?”

        She had heard the weight of His body tearing the flesh surrounding the nails. She had heard those nails pounded into His hands and feet, but she had been unable to watch.

        “Why did you take my joy away?” she finally cried.

        “You lost your joy. I never left you. You looked at me so long ago, and then you dropped your eyes from mine.”

        She felt the pull of His love.

        “Look on me. My yoke is easy. My burden is light.”

        “I don’t want to feel your pain.”

        “I feel yours, dear child. I know yours.”

        She wanted to look up at him, but it would mean allowing His gift to claim her life.

        “Please…” He murmured.

        As thunder rolled suddenly in the distance, the cry of His heart resounded within her. Gripped by the moment, she raised her head. She barely saw His face—much less his swollen eyes—now closed in obvious agony, yet also in anticipation of imminent release.

        “Lord,” she faintly managed.

        His eyes slowly opened. Peering deeply into the crevices of her pain, her guilt, her shame, her fear, He ripped them from her heart, and took them upon himself.

        “Into your hands, Father, I commend my spirit,” He whispered and drew His last breath.

         Suddenly she could breathe. Her pain-filled heart was… free.

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Pain you feel now offers the promise of joy to come. Look at Him.

© 2019 Lynn Lacher

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