He is risen, indeed!

A fresh image of the beaten Christ came to me around midnight last night as I rolled around trying to get to sleep. It was from The Passion: that horrible moment when one feels relief that the cat o' ninetails has finally finished. The Roman Centurian then planes his hand, flips it over, and so his soldiers obey, and the lashing begins again. I felt the same nausea as I did watching the picture. And I couldn't help but say over and over, "Why me? Why me?"

Why would He do that for me? Certainly I'm not worthy and never could or will be no matter how much I grow spiritually.

And so I'm faced with the image of the crushed Christ and I cannot turn from it and walk away, for it follows me. Even as a believer it follows me and says, "Why you? Why you?" And I can only answer with tears and a bruised, saddened heart, a convicted soul and a gratitude for which words will never suffice.

"Why not you?" He asks, resurrected now, blood having been shed, whole again.

It was God's will to crush Him. For God loved the world that He gave Him. For God is love. For here is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as the atoning sacrifice for our sins.

Why not me? I learned the answer to that question at the age of three, and today, resurrection day, I remember that day, kneeling at the pillows on my mother's bed, coming to faith as a tiny child, and I can truly say with full assurance, "He is risen indeed." I am restored. I have been brought from death to life. Today is my resurrection day too, in Christ, thanks be to God.