Sunday I had church in my journal.
What does that mean?
Well when I normally go to church I
worship, listen to a message, and pray.
Here it is hard for me to engage in
church.
Church here is 2 ½ hours long, all in
Russian.
I don’t know the songs, I can’t
understand the message, and I pray when they pray but can’t hear the other
praises and thanks from the congregation.
So yesterday I remembered to take my
journal with me.
As I sat in the back surrounded by
the church I experienced the Spirit.
During worship I prayed and asked the
Lord to have the time, not letting me be bored and lost.
When we sat I opened up my devotional
and was encouraged to dwell on the sacrifice of Jesus.
I opened my journal and wrote a
message to myself inspired by the Lord.
“Trying to actually feel the weight
of the cross is a difficult task. It’s a story we know. We’ve seen the movies.
We’ve heard it told in various ways. We’ve read the scriptures. It happened
over 2,000 years ago. It’s hard to make it truly personal today. Yes, I know
what Jesus did for me. But at the same time I allow it to be something that
applies to humanity as whole. Because of this I don’t let my own personal
actions connect with the cross as I should. I know Jesus died for me, but He
died for all. So turning it the other way…my actions reflecting on Him and not
just His affecting me. It wasn’t just the sin of humanity laid on Jesus. It was
the inequity of us all. Not some abstract idea. Not something in itself:
‘humanity’s sin.’ That was made up by something, many things. Each sin from
every person that ever was, is now, and all to come. That includes me. All the
things I have ever done, am doing, and will do that are contrary to Jesus. They
all played a role in getting Jesus to the earth, beaten, hung on the cross, and
then raised from the dead. When Jesus turned His attitude towards the Father
and said, “forgive them, for they know now what they do…” that applies to me.
While He was in pain. As He was nailed to a cross, hanging in pure agony He
asked for my forgiveness. And yet I live each day my way. Saying “thank you
Jesus” and then on with my day. He covered it all so I am forgiven, but I
should be striving for something better. He spent His life paying for mine. I
should be doing the same for Him. Paying Him back by letting Him work through
me. Because He is not here is my debt. He didn’t get to stay here because I am
sinful. I owe Him. I did the offense to the Father and when the Father came to
punish, Jesus stepped up and asked for my punishment. He loaned me eternal
life. With my finite, earthly life I need to pay Him back. The terms of payment
are different than what this world calls for. It is not a one-time offer. It is
nothing to desire freedom from. It will never be done. If for some reason I
think it is covered and paid in full I would be sadly mistaken. And why should
I not grow weary? Why should I continue? Why should I not grow cold in this
pursuit?
Love.
The foundation of it all is love.
Coming to the earth was an act of
desperate act of love from the Father.
Speaking truth was not out of a place
of being better. It was love pouring out in hopes of redemption.
Healing was not to show off. It was
love wrapping arms around a child.
Being beaten didn’t occur because He
failed. It was love stepping in and saying “stand back my child. I will take
it.”
Hanging on the cross wasn’t showing a
lack of authority. It was displaying just how powerful love truly is.
Raising from the dead wasn’t because
Jesus wanted better for Himself. It was love proclaiming our freedom.
So to pay it all back. To give Jesus
back what He gave. It must be love. And if it is love, there will be no end.
Love sees past obligation.”
When my pen inked the last sentence
we engaged in worship again. I stood with eyes closed and opened my lips to
praise Jesus, the ultimate sacrifice. I made up a song to the tune of the
worship. Then I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. When I opened my eyes leaders
went to the front to prepare communion. How incredible! I had no idea we were
going to do that this Sunday. The Lord put me in a place of incredible awe. He
spoke to me a message about His sacrifice and then allowed me to engage in
communion sealing the deed. Our God is not just good, He is the author and definition
of good.
I had church in my journal and the
Lord had His way in me.
