The Ninth Hour

“Mama, what does ‘the ninth hour’ mean?”

My daughter is good at throwing random questions at me, out of nowhere, when I am driving.

“You mean when Jesus died?” She nodded. So, I explained how he hung on the cross for three hours, from the sixth hour to the ninth hour (which is three in the afternoon). How he suffered, having already endured countless hours of torture, being beaten beyond recognition (Isaiah 53:5). I described the cat of nine tails, the whip with stones embedded in the tips so the flesh tore away as the whip gripped and pulled back. Agony. Blood.

So much blood.

The water that poured from his heart when he was pierced, because he had been in agony.

We talked about the sacrifices in the temple, how for centuries all the world looked forward, hoping and praying for the Messiah as they sacrificed one spotless, perfect animal after another. How the blood must have run in rivers from the temple. How the sacrifices had to be made every single year because and animal cannot forever satisfy the holy requirements of justice.

Behold, the Lamb.

And I looked at my daughter, this one who is peeling yet another layer back on her childhood faith. She wrestles and asks the hard questions and I do my best to answer, all the while praying to create wonder in her heart for this Savior who has literally crossed oceans and continents to accomplish his perfect will in her life. She loves him, has since she was seven years old, since the day she wept and said, “He wouldn’t get down off that cross,” surrendering her little heart to him even before she understood the ramifications of her decision.

She just knew Jesus loved her and had refused to quit. He did what he had to do for her and she loved him back because of it.

And isn’t that the crux of it all?

He intentionally made faith simple. We are the ones who make it hard, who think adding anything to the finished work of Christ could possibly be a good idea.

I looked at my daughter, tears filling my eyes, and spoke through the lump in my throat..

“When you realize what he went through, doesn’t it change everything about how you see Easter?” She was quiet for a long moment, then nodded again, turning over the mental images of her suffering savior in her mind.

Easter is about so much more than bunnies and eggs. It’s about a real God who really came down and took on flesh, and really did the unthinkable: dying for a crooked and lost people…whom He happened to adore.

He loves us, friends. He loves us, not because we are good…

but because HE is good.

Good Friday is good, because his death meant we live, no longer burdened by the weight of sin.

Easter is bright and joyful because He conquered death and rose from the grave…ensuring you and I will also rise again and live with him forever!

It doesn’t make sense. We had done nothing to deserve his love, much less his suffering on our behalf. Yet suffer, he did, beyond anything we can imagine. Even while we were lost and running from him in rebellion.

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 5:6-8

What better time than today to give your life to Jesus? Can you imagine a more perfect celebration of his resurrection than recognizing your need for a savior and surrendering, once and for all, to him? Oh, I pray you will do just that. And if you do, please let me know! I want to rejoice with you and walk alongside you as you begin the beautiful journey of faith.

Celebrate this Easter as a fully loved child of the King. Let nothing hold you back. Lift up your face with the assurance of hope for he is risen…

he is risen, indeed!

Mama Bear

UPDATE:  The search team has found the remains of children in the area.  Here is a link to the post.  Please continue to pray and speak out.  Human trafficking is a VERY real and present epidemic in our country.  The victims are often children as young as two years old.  The body of Christ must be willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus and help however He may ask of us.

THIS IS NOT A TYPICAL #ALIFEOFSIMPLEJOYS POST.

I don’t know about you, but news articles about children being hurt or abused punch me in the gut.  I cannot bear the thought of an innocent child suffering.

But suffering, too often, occurs.  And even worse is when it is at the hands of an adult who should be protecting them.

This post will be short.  This post has no joy attached to it because what I have seen is dark.  The only way joy will become a part of this story is if there is justice.

Please, friends, go to #operationbackyardbrawl and brace yourselves for what you will see.  The videos (and language) are graphic.  Share all over social media.  Force the powers-that-be to pay attention and fight for these little ones.  The voices of those trying to help are being squelched, videos that expose the atrocities are being removed.  And, to be honest, most of us are more likely to like and share a picture of our friend’s new baby or latest new recipe than posts like this.  Our society is numb.  We just don’t want to think about it, much less confront it.  But you and I both know the power of an army of mamas who refuse to back down from a fight for the lives of their children.  We must fight…on our knees.

Do you believe prayer works?  Do you believe God listens and answers the cries of his people?  I’ll admit, there are many times it has felt like my prayers are bouncing off the ceiling.  And Satan would love to keep it that way.  He wants to render us ineffective, distracted, and focused inward.

The enemy is real.  The level of evil that is permeating the dark places in society is beyond anything I could ever imagine.  Watch the videos.  Listen to the horrific descriptions of what these little ones have been forced to endure.

We must pray for these children.  There may not be much we can do for them physically at this point but we can wage war in the name of Jesus in the spiritual realm.  Let the mama bears rise up and refuse to be silenced!  The children…our children…deserve nothing less.

It will take the power of God to stop this.  And stop it, He will.  One day every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.  Until then, God has set us, His daughters, here at the watchtower.

Click here.

Then search #operationbackyardbrawl.

SHARE.

PRAY like you have never prayed before.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.