04-17-2014
How apt that on this day, Maundy Thursday, I find myself all alone in the abode. With Hubby and kids at camp, I wouldn't really consider myself deserted, but it may as well feel like it.
On this day, more than two thousand years ago, my Savior was deserted by his own disciples and those who professed to be his followers. I can only wonder how it may have felt like. I know that my "deserted" situation doesn't even come close. I scour the house, with the intention of cleaning up. But stop midway. A sock, on the floor. When will they learn to put them in the laundry basket? Then a thought slowly comes. What were the things that were left behind by Jesus' friends, evidences that they were there, with him, in fellowship. A torn piece of unleaven bread? A half-empty cup? A sandal? A sword?
As I ponder upon the events leading to the cross, I come face to face again with His wondrous GRACE and I'm simply overwhelmed by his LOVE for me.
BETRAYED. For me.
DESERTED. For me.
DENIED. For me.
CRUCIFIED. For me.
DIED. For me.
ALIVE. For me.
VICTORY. For me.
So that I may live a victorious life -
in HIM
through HIM
for HIM.
Deserted NO MORE!
