The die has been cast. It is set in stone. The plans have been carefully laid out for failure. Your failure. Generation upon generation have come and gone, each leaving its own personal mark of tragedy to be passed on to the next. Insanity, addiction, anger, rejection, rebellion, indifference - all, silently passed from one generation to another and now to you. The object has always been to ensure you'd never get very far. No one else in your family has, so why should you?
Still . . .
You look in the mirror and wonder who it is looking back at you. There's an emptiness inside of you that refuses to be filled. You've tried everything to drown it out. Drugs, alcohol, food, sex, work, money. . . religion, but it's still there. A small voice sometimes whispers to you that there's more to life than this and a part of you rebels at the injustice of it all. In moments of desperation you wonder, "Is this all there is?" and a part of you slowly dies.
Now. . .
In a garden, very late at night, there is a man on his knees sobbing in agony. In his short life he has been betrayed, mocked, ridiculed, abandoned and has now been sentenced to die - a long and horrific death by unspeakable torture. If that weren't bad enough, everyone he knew abandoned him. One, in particular, had been paid to turn him in. His heart is broken and his grief is overwhelming. He pleads to God for mercy. "If there's any other way. . ." he cries.
He is literally sweating blood.
In the midst of his plea he hears a voice crying. The sound is faint at first, but it grows louder and louder. It is a terrible sound. He closes his eyes and puts his hands over his ears, but it grows louder. He opens his mouth to scream when suddenly he sees the source of the noise and he is stopped short.
It's you.
Born into a life you did not ask for or deserve, he saw you. Every pain, every joy, every moment of your life, the good and the bad - he saw you. In the darkest hour that any man has ever endured, you were what came to mind. His love and longing for you in that moment was so intense that he ceased to struggle with his fate. With the tears from his face he wiped yours clean and he smiled at you. "I'll do it for you," he said. "I'll do it all for you."
What comes next has been talked about and filmed in graphic detail. Most experts agree that we cannot really comprehend the gruesomeness or the horror of his death. It is said that he was beaten beyond all recognition as a human being. For more than two thousand years the story of his death has been told until it has become worn, and faded like an old handkerchief. The graphic nature of what he endured has been lost in the telling until it has become irrelevant in comparison with the things going on in the world now.
But not to you.
You know what it feels like to say goodbye--to have something you love ripped from your hands. You know what it feels like to be alone and betrayed and have all hope stripped away. In your mind's eye you see him in that garden and you know that he saw you. It was your crying he heard and your tears he wiped away that night. You see the love in his eyes as he stands up and reaches his hand out to you. In the mire and horror of your life he saw something worth saving. He took your place. He did it for you.
"It is finished," he said. The end.
Today, because of what he did, you have a new start. The very years of history are counted by the day he died. You are no longer tied to the past or limited by the family or the life you were born into. He did it to give you a chance at freedom -to give you hope. Before him there was none and without him there never will be any. Ever since that day, there are no barriers between God and you except those you put there yourself. He never leaves you. Ever. You walk away all the time, but he never does. He can't leave. You're his child and he loves you. Every minute of every day he's right there next to you. . . watching, smiling. . . waiting.
Now go. . .
You're free.
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