Last week I drove by myself to pick up Little Missy from Oklahoma; Hubby came home early that day to watch Baby Chickadee while G was safe in eastern Kansas with Grandma and Papa. On the way down I listened to my music loud. The best time to absorb music is when I’m by myself and the music pounds into my brain.
That day I listened to a song about an only son who avenges the wrongs perpetrated on his father. In literature and music we applaud those with the courage to fight for the honor of a maligned family member, especially when that family member is honorable and good. We not only understand but we also justify the revenge that son executed.
Jesus, God’s only Son, should have ridden on thunderous clouds before avenging His Father’s name; He should have wiped clean this creation so painstakingly and lovingly made but who turned its collective back on Him.
Instead He left heaven to walk this dusty earth with us–to eat bland food and get beaten by the sun’s rays, to sleep on the hard ground before lovingly answering the silly questions of His disciples–just so He could love us and heal us and repair the relationship between us and His loving Father. Then he went even further and died for us, to once and forever give us the opportunity to live in relationship with the Most Holy King.
I cannot fathom that kind of love.