He took my place

At a Ecumenical, Good Friday Service a couple of days ago, I carried a cross. When they passed out a sign up sheet a couple of months ago, the only thing on the list I was remotely interested in was carrying the cross. Everyone else did a dramatic (actually a not-so dramatic) reading of John 19. The text was amazing, but the emotion was lacking. Many of those who were reading were friends of mine, and they were serious about what they were reading, but they were just reading. I had no idea that what I signed up for would affect me.

As I carried the cross down the aisle to the stage to stand it up, I was reminded of the million images of Jesus carrying His cross I've seen over the years. I was reminded that Jesus told me that unless I take up my cross daily then I cannot be His disciple. This cross carrying is serious business, and all of the sudden I was very honored to be carrying this big piece of wood. After all, it was my sin that sent Jesus there. It was my shame that He took. It was my pain that He bore. It was my public humiliation that he embraced. On Good Friday I remembered that the only reason that anything Good is - is because of the cross.

Recently the Lord put some words in my heart about a song I was wanting to write, and the bridge simply says this ...

It should've been me hanging on that tree
Exposed for all the world to see
I owed a debt that I could not pay
And dead in my sins I would have stayed ...

Thank You, Lord Jesus for the sacrifice You made on the cross. Thank You for taking my place. Thank You for making a way for me. I love You.