Hope

A thought sometimes dances around inside my head when I reflect on death and suffering (brought to mind by the struggle of my friend A.—see previous posts), and it goes like this:

Jesus knew he would be rejected. He knew he would be beaten. He knew he would be condemned to a terrible death. He knew he would take his last breath on a cross.

But…
Jesus…
cheated…

He knew it wasn’t the end. He knew the “rest of the story”. He knew there was a resurrection. He knew he would sit at God’s right hand.

So the thought continues: Jesus’ suffering is not like mine. His death and mine are miles apart. For how much courage does it take to face death when you know your Father won’t forget you? When he’s mapped out a plan? When he’s made you a promise?

Hmmmmm…

When facing death, “in Christ” one knows…

It isn’t the end. He knows the “rest of the story”. He knows he will be resurrected. He knows he will sit at God’s side. That there’s a plan. That a promise has been made.

And so…
he too…
cheats…