How can I ever thank you? My gratitude doesn’t seem like enough. How could it be after all you’ve done for me?
I have trouble reading about your last moments on earth. Good Friday feels anything but good. The sorrow of all you had to endure makes my heart-ache. Your heart-ached then too, didn’t it? The rejection of your trial. The way you were mocked and beaten. The crown of thorns upon your head. The nails in your hands and feet. All of which you suffered through for me.
Jesus, I’m sorry. I have failed and done so much wrong. You knew I couldn’t do this on my own. You knew I couldn’t save myself. But you could have saved yourself and you didn’t. You could have chosen not to take the pain and the humiliation, but you experienced it all so I could experience your love. My sins were on that cross. It was me who was guilty that Friday morning at the trial, not you.
You suffered a double death that day. The darkness physically and spiritually as you were separated from your Father, so I would never have to be eternally separated from Him. This was the Good News of Good Friday, wasn’t it? The way to the cross revealed the way to the kingdom. Without your sacrifice to remove the barrier between God and me, I could not approach Him. Thank you for allowing your body to bridge the gap.
The only adequate response I can give is to confess my sin and accept that you paid the full penalty. When I try to earn my salvation, remind me you said it is finished. My faith in your sacrifice alone saves me. You are not interested in my sacrifice, because you already did – once and for all.
Forgive me for ever responding with indifference to your love offering. Help me to see beyond my present sorrow to your coming glory. Jesus, may I be as changed by your death as I am changed by your life. Because you died on my behalf, may I forever live for you.