... of Me. Since it is Good Friday, I wanted to take a minute or two to remember. To reflect on what this day means to me and to other Christians. It's not like any other day; this day stands in sharp contrast to other holidays, even to Christmas. On this day Someone did something that staggers me - He took my place and suffered what I deserved because of His love for me. I have to come back to that reality again and again, because I often forget the simple fact that He is there as opposed to not being there, and that He loves me as opposed to not loving me.
And since He is there, and is kindly disposed towards us, why do we act as if He is not there or is somehow pissed at us? Now I'm not saying everybody thinks that way, but sometimes I do. Sometimes I find myself afraid to talk to Him because I have forgotten the central truth of the Christian faith: God loves us! And he cared for us so much, that He was willing to undergo torture and death to restore our relationship with Him.
I think with all the rage that is evident in our world today - war in Iraq and Afghanistan, Terri Schiavo's case and all the vitriolic rhetoric that has been unleashed by both sides off the issue, partisan bickering over Social Security, not to mention the unnumbered wars in Africa and Asia, the behavior of man towards his kind sinking lower and lower - the truth still rings that God loves us.
I know there are some who would disagree with Me, but I speak from personal experience, rather than theory. I have met the Resurrected One, and continue to meet Him and He welcomes me, even when I try to ignore Him.