Tonight is Good Friday. And true to its name, it was good, really good. I reflected on something that happened to me last year... you see...I was overwhelmed with what was consuming my attention, in the middle of my most beloved worship song, I started to list all of the things I wanted to give Isaac.
You know, a happy home, loving parents, yadda yadda yadda… The list continued…
1. I want to give Isaac a yard to play in.
2. I want to give Isaac swim lessons.
3. I want to give Isaac a good education.
4. I want to give Isaac the ability to go to college.
5. I want to give Isaac….
It was then I feel to my knees. I want to give Isaac Jesus. I want him to know the old rugged cross that has changed my life. The sweat stained brow that held the crown of thorns. I want to give Isaac a deeply rooted truth, one submerged in scripture. I want to give Isaac the feeling that consumes me when a praise song comes over the radio, you know, the turn it up and sing until your voice is sore, kind of feeling. I want to give him Jesus.
That’s it. Nothing else, just Jesus. The college education became less important, the yard within the fense that outlines my dream home does not matter. The swim lessons I stress about are no big deal, the items I feel like I ”have” to give him really don’t matter, they will not make a lasting impact on his life, so they don’t really matter however, his life will be saved by giving him Jesus. A picture came to my mind, one of me on my knees at the foot of the cross, laying my baby at the base, where the dirt and wood met. Me physically handing my baby over to him. I guess to give him Jesus, so I can give Jesus to him…
Jesus, my sweet Jesus, he is yours. I am yours, we are yours. What we have is yours, all we have has been given to us by your hands, the very hands that were nailed to the cross. I love you and praise you with every breath. Amen.