On Thursday I did my grocery shopping. In retrospect it was a stupid day to do the shopping. Especially when I could have just as easily gone shopping on Tuesday or Wednesday. But I went Thursday. Just after I'd been to the Doctor's with my sick kids. Just before my town got crazy busy with it's annual Easter celebrations. I would have put it off, but by Thursday we really needed food. And even if it could have waited until Friday, the shops would have been shut. So we braved the supermarket.
As I was circling the car park searching for a park, with two miserable children in the backseat, cursing myself for being so stupid, the radio was playing. And then a guy started talking about Easter, and the meaning behind it, and what Jesus endured on the the cross.
He spoke in detail, in vivid detail, about the way Jesus suffered as he died for us. The physical suffering. And it really was just awful. I'm not going to rehash it, you can look it up in detail if you want. But suffice to say that being hung up on a cross was the least of Jesus' suffering. What he went through for us. As I was sitting in my car, circling round and round, I started crying. Suddenly finding a park seemed like the most unimportant thing in the world.
You know what? I still don't understand it. When you think of all he suffered, it sounds impossible that anyone could withstand it. I cannot fathom how he endured so much, why he endured so much. I honestly don't think we're worth it.
But I am immensely grateful that he did.
I am so thankful that he suffered so I don't have to. I am so glad that he died because he loves me that much. And I am so glad that he didn't stay dead. That he rose again, and defeated death, so that I can have eternal life.