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You’re at the grocery store again. The same thing you do every week. Pick up the ingredients for the upcoming week’s meals. It’s a bit mundane, as shopping usually is. You pass children with their mothers down the aisles; some are polite, while others beg for candy. You see the man with the American flag muscle shirt, the teenagers grouped together like giggling hyenas. There’s the middle aged woman examining an avocado, and the 20-something college kid pulling a frozen pizza out of the freezer.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary; regular people following their regular routines. As you pick up your last item and place it in your basket, you turn to head toward the register. You see someone run past the isle in a hurry. “Weird,” you think “I wonder what their rush is?” You hear a popping noise to your left, from the other side of the store. Maybe someone dropped something. You continue to head toward the front of the store, and as you turn out of the isle, you see people running, and hear screams of panic. There’s a woman lying on the ground in a pool of blood.

Suddenly, everything goes in slow motion. Blood rushes to your head, as the perimeter of your vision goes white. You see a masked man and flashes of light before you. He’s pointed to your left, and as you begin to turn to run, he looks at you, yelling something, and aims his weapon at you.

This is it. Time seems to stand perfectly still, and in this eternal moment of accepting your unfortunate fate, you see a dark shadow move in front of you. A muzzle blast leaves a corona of light around this object in front of you. Time somehow seems to stop entirely. There is no sound, there is no movement; a perfect darkened picture of nothingness, with just your thoughts to keep you company. “Am I dead?” you think to yourself.

As reality slowly fades back, you can hear screaming and wailing coming at you like a freight train. People come back into view, and the ensuing chaos with them. The gunman has fled, leaving a bloody mess strewn about the linoleum floor. You gasp, and then look down to check your body for bullet holes, but find none. Breathing a sigh of relief, you look down to see a man laid out in front of you, gasping and wheezing. You run to give him aid, then realize this was the shadow that passed in front of you. His airways filled with blood, he tries his best to whisper to you “are you okay?” You tell him softly that you are fine. Trying to put pressure on his chest wound with your hands, he pushes them away gently. “It’s okay.” He says slowly, “I did what I needed to do. You are safe, and I took this bullet for you. Please tell my children that I love them, and do not waste your life.” The last word sputters out of his mouth, now filled with blood. He takes his final breath and dies in your arms; a complete stranger who chose to trade his life for yours.

As I wrote this short story in my head on my way home from work today, I remembered that someone has already died for me. Taken the bullet with my name on it, and given me a second chance to live a life worth living. That my value has nothing to do with what I drive, who I marry, or what gadgets I own. My life was worth someone else’s. They made that choice before I had a say in it.

How do I talk to myself? What kinds of things do I believe about myself that spit in the face of that man’s sacrifice? If heaven chose to bankrupt itself so that I can live, what does that say about my true value? How should I actually speak to myself, and how should I treat others? Is my life today worthy of someone else’s death? Would they be proud of what choices I am making with the second chance that they gave me?

The man that died for me also died for you. He gave up his right to a fair trial, embraced a brutal beating that marred him beyond human recognition. Suffocated, bled, cried in panic and pain for several grueling hours, with one simple thought that made it all worth it for Him: He gets to have a relationship with you. You were the joy set before him; like a treasure buried, he bought the whole plot of land, just so that He could get to know you. It didn’t matter it cost Him a life savings to buy the land, He simply wanted you.

What would you say to someone dying in front of you, gasping for their last breath from the bullet they took from you?

Continue reading]]> Thinking of How Much God Has Done for Me and Through Me…

When I think of you, my heart wants to sing, it wants to dance, the joy is overwhelming!
Your presence calms my soul, overfills my cup, my emotions overcome me!
Your smile warms my heart, puts a smile on my face, and fills my belly with laughter!
I can’t get enough of you! How can I walk away from you?
Your whispers bring me hope, your laughter makes me laugh, your love for me is so complete!
I want to sing to the sky at the wonders you created! I seem so small yet so important to you!
How can I live without your everlasting grace, daily joy and peace, knowing how much you have forgiven me!
Your wonders are astounding, so overwhelming, your majesty so revered!
You gave me a new life, one to start over, and everything I need to do the tasks set before me!
You equipped me with your armour, your strength and peace, and already won the wars before I even arrive!
I can only be certain of one thing in this life, and that is that I can completely trust you with all that I am, all that you have given me, and the lives of my family and self!
No one can compare to you LORD!
Who can be equal with the wonders of your hands? Who can change lives so dramatically as you? Who can love beyond human comprehension as you do, He who is love incarnate?
What can I say to come close to describe your glory LORD? What language can contain your splendor? Who can understand the vastness of your character? Who is wise enough to know your plans?
Yet, you reveal yourself to us, through us, and show your love in the most creative ways!
You romance the heart of your bride daily! You pursue her heart with the most gentile and jealous way!
My heart and life belong to you, since you loved me since I even existed! You have forgiven me for such hateful and evil things I have done, and paid the price I owed without me even wanting you to! You bore the nails I embedded in you! You wore the crown of thorns as a mark of honor as I forced it onto your face. You embraced the claws of flogging to empower me in your kingdom. You died while I spit in your face and cursed you. You rose again to make me a king in your court. Your ways are not my ways, and I am completely and eternally grateful for the love you gave me before I even knew you! You have shown your devotion so beautifully that I am indebted to you eternally, but not as merely a servant or beggar, but as God’s son, as a king, as royalty, and a prince. You made me honored instead of mocked, healed instead of beaten, whole instead of pierced, and fully alive instead of dead. The works of your hands, the creation from your words, your very creativity, beauty, love, and splendor courses through my entire being, not because I did anything to impress you, but because you love me enough that you made me in your image.
Father, Jesus, and Holy Spirit, I love you, and have all of my life to give to you. I am wholly devoted, eternally grateful, cognitively aware of the depth of your grace, and emotionally connected with you. You are my one true hero, my king, lord, saviour, friend, faithful companion, father, and lover. I could and would not want to be here without you. Thank you.