I can’t let this day pass without remembering. This day is painted in crimson and scarlet, the colors of forgiveness.
He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
smitten by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
-The Prophet Isaiah, Isaiah 53:3-5
Although my pain is unrelenting, it pales in comparison to the suffering of Christ. If only I would use my pain as an ever-present reminder of the price willingly paid for me. If only I would understand this truth, and let it sink in, to viscerally accept the love God has for me. No matter how awful the pain, it is a reminder of what true love is.
The earth was shaking in the dark
All creation felt the Fathers broken heart
tears were filling heaven’s eyes
The day that true love died, the day that true love died
When blood and water hit the ground
Walls we couldn’t move came crashing down
We were free and made alive
The day that true love died, The day that true love died
-Phil Wickham, True Love