“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.”
Often times this verse is used from the scriptures to remind us of how costly our salvation was for our Lord, and perhaps, sometimes the reality of it sinks in and we get taste of the cross. Yet, God, in all of his grace and mercy often times teaches us about the cost through our own life’s circumstances.
This past week was one of those weeks where my family was thrown into a situation that left my physical body shaken and my soul stirred. Monday night, Becky Jo and Jenny were over at the house to hang out while our husbands were playing basketball. Not long into the evening, Micah and our dog had a bit of an issue. We are still unsure exactly what happened, but Micah ended up screaming at the top of his lungs. When I turned around, what I saw exactly what every mother fears for her child, blood, lots and lots of blood. The dog had splayed open my two-year-old son’s top lip either with her paw or her teeth. After a lioness-type reaction and a bit of scrambling, Becky Jo and Jenny Kendall loaded up Micah in the car, and I sped away to the ER.
When Britton finally made it up to the ER to meet us, the shock and horror on his face after looking at Micah sent tears streaming down my face. The worst part of the whole ordeal was when the doctor had to sedate Micah. The sight of his limp body being lifted on the bed while they tried to mend his marred face was near unbearable. I recall glancing over and seeing Britton, the father of my son, trying to choke the tears back. I grabbed his hand and clenched it until my knuckles were white. The suffering your child no matter how small the cut or severe the injury does something inside leaving you raw, for you suffer too.
In that moment while seeing Britton’s reaction to our son, the Spirit tugged inside of me. Over two thousand years ago, our heavenly Father, had to allow his only son to endure the cross. Micah’s injury was so small compared to what Christ experienced for Christ’s whole back was splayed open from the whip. The nails pierced his hands and feet, the thorns, his brow. Through my own husband’s eyes, I received a glimpse of how God must have felt when watching Christ breathe his last breath and the soldiers pull his limp body down from the stained wood.
Yet, we can rejoice. We can rejoice that Christ paid the penalty for our sin in our stead. We don’t have to endure that pain and torture. My prayer this week is that we could, as a body of believers, reflect on the cost of the cross. Remember the price that was paid, and then be glad because Christ conquered death for us. Let our scars, seen and unseen, remind us that we have been healed and Christ has brought us through.