We as Christians are unique in that the God we serve is alive and has conquered death. Today is a day of celebration, however, today my heart has been heavy with the thought of the sacrifice. I should have been cheerful and full of joy to be able to celebrate the resurrection of my Lord. But, instead my mind has been on the sacrifice of the father, you know the part that comes before the miraculous risen savior, the part that brings tears to the eyes, the part I can't handle seeing replayed in movies or on television, or even in plays. The sacrifice.
I'm familiar with the word and act of sacrifice, I mean geez I'm a mom, what mom does not know what sacrifice is. We sacrifice warm food because we feed our children first and our food gets cold, we sacrifice sleep (ahh sleep) in order to be there for our babies, we sacrifice our bodies (stretch marks that no lotion can make go away), we sacrifice our health, fearlessly going into flu infested bathrooms and bedrooms to comfort our sick children, we sacrifice time, giving up hobbies or interests so that we can drive our kids to soccer practice. As mothers we put our kids' needs before our own, that's what we do, we are moms. And if you asked anyone of us if we would sacrifice our very life for our child, of course we would and not even bat an eye. But if we were asked to give our child as a sacrifice, you would be hard pressed to find a woman who would not go down fighting to save or spare her child.
So when contemplating the sacrifice made, I don't always picture the man, now I often picture the little boy. The one with a mommy who wiped his runny nose, and kissed his skinned knees. The little boy who delighted his mommy with his first word, first smile, and first steps (just like Mckenna delights me). The little boy with two fathers, both who loved him deeply and taught him how to walk in their footsteps one day. The little boy who with tears in his eyes asked his daddy that if it be thy will let this cup pass from me.
And I contemplate the mother, who brought him into this world knowing that while he was her little boy, he was also a savior. The mother who had to know in her heart that one day a sacrifice would be made.
I also contemplate the fathers. One who walked with him and taught him how to be a carpenter, and loved him as his own. The other who knew when it all began how it would end and loved us so much that he still went through with it.
Finally I contemplate the boy who became a man and sacrificed everything for me. A man who has made it possible for my child "to face uncertain days because he lives". It is hard for me to wrap my mind around that sacrifice and that love. It is an unearthly love the father has for us, that I am sure of and thankful for.
Some pictures of Miss McKenna aka The Booger on this beautiful Easter Sunday:
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| Her bow was about the size of her head! I loved it! |
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| Where is McKenna? I can't see her through the flower! |
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| She is a little unsure of the grass, bless her:) |
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| This is her, "my bow injured me look" right after she snapped her head with it:( |
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