Tag Archives: Sacrifice

The Blood

3 Jul

Christ with cross

 “And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother’s blood
crieth unto me from the ground.”    (Genesis 4:10  KJV)

 

The Blood of Jesus pools at the soldiers’ feet surrounding the whipping yard, spraying those nearby, spraying those ripping His flesh.  Were they ever the same?  Did Jesus’ drops of blood that touched them heal the afflictions of those who wielded the Cat of 9 tails, destroying His body?

When the soldiers ripped at His beard and slapped His face, when the blood transferred from God to Man, did they feel the change in their spirits?  Were they startled?  Were they ashamed?

Every step along the Via doloRosa was stained with blood.  Those who screamed “Crucify Him!” surrounded and followed after Him.  As their feet stepped on the bloody droplets on the ground did miracles change their lives?  Did the blood burn their skin?  Did it tingle?  Did it warm them to their souls? Did they understand what was happening?

When Simon of Cyrene lifted the cross, put it on his own shoulder and Jesus’ blood covering the cross transferred onto Simon’s face, were his eyes opened? Did he still see the battered face of a condemned man, or did he now see the face of God?

When the soldiers pounded the nails through Jesus’ wrists and they were sprayed by gushing blood, did they stop, even for a moment?  Did they feel the touch of anticipation in the dampness? Did they recognize that something was different?

When Mary and John sat at the foot of the cross, praying and weeping, the precious blood of Jesus was trailing down the wooden cross – dripping from His arms, dripping from His feet onto their clothing, onto their faces – did they feel the new life that was about to birth, or were they so torn by grief that they couldn’t see that each precious drop would birth to a new nation, strong in miracles and power?

Did Jesus’ last words pierce the sky like lightning, capturing the soul of anyone who heard?

When the soldier pierced Jesus’ side, being sprayed with water and blood that flowed from Him, did he feel the hand of God?  Did he step back and recognize that this blood, this water, wasn’t the same as the hundreds of other men’s that he had seen before?  Did the water of the spirit flow over him?  Did he hear the voice of God?

When the sky turned dark and the earth trembled, did they feel God step down to touch the body and soul of His precious son?

When they lifted Jesus’ body down from the cross, did the last few drops touch the hands of the called?  Did they feel the burning and stirring inside of something miraculous about to happen?

Are there yet drops of His blood that have seeped deep into the soil at the place called Golgotha, that by its very presence makes the city Holy, not for what it is, but for who left His blood along a pre-ordained path?

Are my hands stained with Jesus’ Blood when I walk away from the path He pre-ordained me to, like the many who strayed back then, and in their ignorance and anger, drained the miracle giving, life healing, Blood of Jesus out onto the ground?

Do I stand on hallowed ground and cry “No, it’s too hard” or like Simon of Cyrene, do I pick up the cross and wrap an arm around my beaten circumstance and walk toward the word God spoken into my life?

If I had held one drop of Jesus’ blood in the palm of my hand, could I have seen the eternal face of God in its reflection?

Thank you God for a sacrifice I may never truly understand the ramifications of, for a gift of which I may never realize the full preciousness.

 

By Linda J Humes

Written 3-28-2009

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Grounded In Love

2 Sep

love

“That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; to the end that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be strong to apprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, that ye may be filled unto all the fulness of God.”  Ephesians 3:17-19 (ASV)

To fully understand the depth of the love of God is probably one of the most difficult things for a Christian, or anyone for that matter.  We sing songs of how He loves us, read scriptures about His love and stand on the promises of His love and compassion for us, but we really don’t understand the depth.  How can we?  How can we know a love so deep, so pure, or intense, that God sent His son to earth to teach us His perfect ways, knowing full well that His son would be tortured and killed?  Not just “killed,” but stripped naked, forced to carry His own device of death through crowds of angry, screaming people, put up on a cross on the hill called Golgatha, and left in the sun to die a death that we cannot even imagine the pain of.  God did that for us.  He did that for me.

I often tell my children that I love them more than they can understand or will understand until they have children of their own.  There is a depth of love between a parent, especially a mother, and a child, that can’t be explained in words – but I don’t think that I could love a group of people enough to take one of my children and commit them to torture and death so that the others could live.  Could you?  God did.

Scripture says that God knew us before the foundation of the world (Eph 1:4).  He knew the mistakes we would make, the doubts we would feel, the anger and people we would hurt, the moments that we would scream and curse at Him when things didn’t go well in our lives, and yet He loved us.  He didn’t just “love us,” He loved us with a love “which passeth understanding” (Phil 4:7).  That completely overwhelms me.

When I don’t spend time studying the Word, or on my knees in prayer, He sends His love in a cool breeze on a warm day, and a sky filled with beautiful stars on a dark night.  When I have moments of doubt in the foundations of my faith, He whispers words of peace and love in the night hours.  When I feel alone and lost, He shows me that He is always near me, guiding me, teaching me, setting my steps, never leaving me (Heb 13:5).

It is that love, that deep piercing love, that helps me get back on track.  It is that love that strengthens me after a trial and gives me the ability to reach out and help others that struggle in their own lives.  It is that love that helps me to “run with patience the race that is set before” me (2 Tim 12:1-2), the race of life, sharing the gospel while encouraging and strengthening the children of God.

It is the kind of love that people have for each other where you can’t spend enough time together, and when your loved one speaks, you sit perfectly still so that you don’t miss one word of what they have to say.  Yes, it is that kind of love.  Not a one-sided loved, but where God hangs onto my words and thoughts and feelings and desires, just as much as I hang onto His.  Yes, it is that kind of love, where we are “filled unto all the fulness of God.”  It is that kind of love.

** A Journey Through Ephesians – Chapter 3, Part 7

Written by Linda J. Humes

11-27-2016

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THE TRIAL

17 Sep

“In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.” Psalm 18:6 KJV

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I couldn't pray today,

The words wouldn't form in my heart.

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The Scripture made no sense,

Blocks of words and numbers.

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I didn't know who to call,

It all seemed so confusing.

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Crying out - Lord,

What to do,

What to do.

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Simple words,

A simple sacred sacrifice.

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I praise You, Lord,

I thank You for this trial.

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Then, in a moment,

The miracle occurred.

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It was Joy,

In the height of the storm,

It was Joy.

 

 

 

※   Written  9-1-1991

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SACRIFICE

16 Sep

“By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.”  Hebrews 13:15  KJV

✝

The Ancient of Days,

cast Himself to the earth,

in the form of a seed,

in the womb of a virgin.

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Subject, now, to heat and cold,

to fatigue and illness,

to prejudice and ridicule,

to suffering and pain.

✝

The Ancient of Days,

became man,

flesh, blood and Spirit;

willingly giving,

the power of deity,

for the birth of a nation.

✝

The God of Jessie,

born through the sacrifice of blood,

to become the blood sacrifice.

✝

From the promises to Adam,

to the revelation shown John,

the blood of God coursed the earth,

changing strength and direction,

at the tributary called Christ.

✝

The new stream of Christ,

fed the trees of new life,

where the roots of the old,

were washed clean.

✝

The water, most pure,

chased the stagnant pools of red,

that once rinsed man’s hands,

but touched not the soul.

✝

The water, most pure,

flowed over and cleansed,

the wounds of the past,

refreshing the hope,

of a dark, tarnished dream.

✝

The water of life,

borne from the blood,

of an innocent man,

takes sweet revenge,

on the deepest of sin.

✝

Released to be washed,

by the power of mercy,

by the treasure of grace,

it rises back up,

to the base of the cross.

✝

There, at the cross,

the blood and water,

of grace and mercy,

flows down to the earth,

as forgiven sin reaches up,

meeting at the feet of Christ.

✝

Running together they became one,

the earth shook with promise,

the sky darkened,

to reveal a new light,

and the rivers flowed,

with a new wine,

washing clean the weary souls,

of all that would reach forth,

in praise.

✝

 

 

Written 10-18-1998

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SWEET FRAGRANCE

15 Oct

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“I will accept you with your sweet savour, when I bring you out from the people, and gather you out of the countries wherein ye have been scattered; and I will be sanctified in you before the heathen.” Ezekiel 20:41

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I love flowers. I could study the simple beauty of a flower for hours – breathing in the gentle aroma that lifts from the petals. I am completely convinced that when God created the Heavens and the earth He knew I was coming and created flowers just for me!

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I most enjoy the age-old garden variety flower; the one with bugs and bees. The kind you can smell without having to bend down and stick your nose in. I grow them in pots at home, as well as in my office. Being blessed with an office window and a door to the outside, I now enjoy the fresh color every time I have to deliver a memo. God is so good!

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This last Mother’s Day I was given a carnation by a local restaurant. It was a beautiful peach color. It immediately brought back memories of buying carnations from the “Flower Children” in the 70’s and 80’s as they held their street corner stations. I quickly buried my nose in the cool petals, but was surprised and dismayed at the absence of its sweet perfume. The was no aroma – no sweetness.

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A few days later I was given a rose boutonniere, left over from an awards presentation. The leaves were perfectly formed, the bud slightly opened – the rich red petals were awesome – but no aroma.

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As beautiful as these two flowers were, there was a hollowness, an incompleteness, like a peach without flavor, or a lamp without light. The first flower I thought was an oddity, but the second was more than coincidence.

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All that week, as I passed retail flower shops, I would stop to smell the flowers – NOTHING!! “Lord,” I prayed, “where is the sweetness You created with this gift? Why is it gone?”

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The answer came as simply as asked, “There is no fragrance without the sun.”

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These plants had been grown in greenhouses, under artificial lights, in special climate controlled conditions. No warmth of the sun, or cool of the night. No rain from Heaven, just processed city water. No fragrance.

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We, too, are like greenhouse flowers. We can be beautiful to look upon, and give the “Impression” of sweetness from a distance, but without the Son, kissing us every day with His soul feeding Word, we have no sweet fragrance. Impressions only last a moment, but beauty, blessed with sweetness, will remain a pleasant memory for a lifetime.

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The Bible refers to our praise and sacrifice as a sweet savor, rising up to the nostrils of God. An eternal pleasure in God’s memory.

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Lord, let me always be a sweet savor in Your thoughts. Remind me, daily, that without the Son, and the gift He gave, there will be no fragrance.

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Written 5-23-00

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Sore On My Palm

19 Jul

 

jesus hands hole with baby hand

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.      Isaiah 53:5 (KJV)

To say that we have had windstorms this year is a gross understatement.  We are getting to know our neighbor’s eating habits from the trash we’ve had to pick up in our yard – the hazard of being the last house before the cyclone fence!

Our poor trees took a beating and their branches covered an acre of yard.  So few trees, so many branches; I suspect some are visitors from neighboring yards accompanying the trash.

I grabbed a big bucket and went about collecting branches.  The smaller ones fit nicely into the bucket, but the longer ones had to be broken.  Most snapped in half easily, but one branch hadn’t dried out completely and gave me quite a challenge.  When it finally gave it snapped in my hand and dug into my palm – yikes, that smarts!

I babied that hand for days, the loose skin fell away and it left behind a perfectly round purple mark in the center of my palm.  As I reviewed it one day it took my breath away.  For just a moment I was looking into the hand of my Savior, a hole clean through and bloodied.  A sacrifice, just for me.

I fussed at my simple gouge; the soldiers drove nails through His hands and feet.  I jump at the smallest bump, He was hung on a cross; his side pierced.  How dare me to feel sorry for myself over a scratch when He gave His life without complaint so that I could receive eternal life.

The mark stayed on my palm for weeks, a daily reminder of how much God loves me.  Scars are reminders of choices made, good or bad, and always come with lasting memories.  I wish the mark had not gone away.  Like the cross hanging around my neck, I desire the simple daily reminders of who I am in Christ; someone just like you, a child of Christ.

Thank you Lord for making me ever aware of what You have done for me.  I could never repay You.  Don’t allow me to get so caught up in everyday life to forget that everything I have, every breath I breathe, every step I take, is made possible by You.  I praise You.

 

Written by Linda J Humes

Written 6-8-2010

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WOMAN OF GRACE

9 Sep

 woman in prayer

“Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”  Proverbs 31:30 KJV

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Born of sacrifice,

Birthed in grace,

Bone of man’s bone,

Blood of man’s blood.

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Chosen to serve,

Cleaving to the covenant,

The promise of Adam,

The promise of Abraham.

—-

Grace to bring forth,

The children of promise,

Destined to call,

Destined to serve.

—-

Grace to pray truth,

Into the nation,

Grace to endure,

Intercession by day,

Intercession by night.

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Unwaivering love,

Unmerited favor,

To see past the pain,

Of sin’s temporal hand,

To the promise of life,

This side of the cross.

—-

Faith in the truth,

Abounding with love,

To believe in the birth,

To believe in the death,

Of life and of Sin,

Of spirit, of soul.

—-

Grace to bloom forth,

As the rose in the desert,

With fragrance and velvet,

From the thorns,

Rigid arms.

—-

Rising to God,

In manifest witness,

Of grace and of mercy,

In truth from above.

—-

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Grafted

30 Mar

It was a deep wound,

Intended to bring death,
Inflicted by the spear,
Of a Roman Soldier.

Gaping open,
It released blood and water.
The blood of the new covenant,
The water of the Holy Spirit,
Yet to come.

The precious liquids,
Oozing to the surface,
Were the precious nutrients,
To give food and strength,
To the nation to come.

Inside that wound,
Deep in the side of my Savior,
The wound Satan meant for evil,
God planted a seed,
A bud,
A grafted nation,
A place for me.

That wound,
And the seed inside,
Were anointed with myrrh,
With aloes, and with spices.
Wrapped so carefully,
With the finest linen,
Preparing a cleft,
Of most Holy foundation,
For the Gentile to join,
God’s chosen.

Then came the moment,
When the linens were left,
In the shape of a man,
But hollow and unaltered,
As a message of release.

The moment when Christ,
With the grafted children,
Tucked safely beneath his arm,
Faced Satan and conquered death.

Now this nation,
Birthed in the side of Christ,
As Eve was birthed,
In the side of Adam,
Sat in communion,
At the right hand of God.

Guided forth,
Performing greater miracles,
Exhibiting greater power,
Flowing in the Holy Spirit,
The seed branched forward.

Inside that graft,
With its roots entwined,
Deep into the Master,
There is a leaf,
Turning to the Son,
Preparing to break forth,
And follow the way,
Set forth by Him.

It’s just one leaf,
Of the many branches,
Just one small part,
Of a mighty tree.
But on that leaf,
Is a name,
And that name belongs,
To ME.

olive-branch

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