My King – Death

Greetings Dear Reader,

“Death couldn't handle him.”

I have written extensively about death.  I hate the loss it causes but I also understand that it is a mercy from God.  When we sinned the entire echo system was changed from a life based one to death based.

We celebrate Spring and the renewal of life.  We talk about the warming weather.  We move back outside to see the buds, leaves, grass, and sprouts.  All the growth we celebrate springs from death.  The seed, the lead, and the limb all fall to the ground and die. 

Death is there waiting patiently for us all.  He has visited those I love while I was helpless to do anything.  Then there is my King.  As I mentioned yesterday death was a choice.  His death came swiftly but in inches. 

The bleeding starts in the garden.  The pain of what he knew was coming caused the God/man great grief.  His friends sleep while he prays.  He is arrested, beaten, and flogged.  The bleeding continues.  He whipped up the hill, laid down, nailed to the cross, and dies.

Without faith there is no hope.  Death seems so final without faith.  But it is only Friday.  Death cannot handle my King because he is King over death.  Death will die.  Death will end.  Life will be eternal because death cannot handle my King. 

In the moment, however, we wait.  Whilst we wait we should remember who it is that bleeds beginning in the garden.  Alone and about to be totally alone my King asks his Father if there is another way.  He knows there is not.  He knows that death my redeem us.  He submits to the shame and torture.  He submits to the abuse and hatred.  He submits to death for the sake of those who kill him.  That’s my King.  I wonder if you can really see him.

In the Garden – Michael Card

Trembling with fear, alone in the garden

Battle before the final war

Blood became tears, there in the garden

To fall upon the silent stone

There in the darkness the Light

And the darkness stood still

Two choices, one tortured will

And there once the choice had been made

All the world could be saved by the One in the garden

The light of the dawn, was seen in the garden

By gentle eyes so sadly wise

The angels appear, they come to the garden

Clothed with sighs, they realize

The One they adored from the start

Will be broken apart

By the ones He had come to save

So they’re here simply now to be near

He's no longer alone, they sit by moan

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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