What length will God go to rescue even one lost sheep?
I thought I knew. Or maybe I did know, but I didn’t realize–didn’t feel the truth of it in my heart. But now, today, I think of Easter. I think of Good Friday, and that it wasn’t very good. I think of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, in fulfillment of prophecy. I think of him surveying the temple of His Father, and throwing the moneychangers out on their collective behinds. He could have left after that, his mission partially accomplished. He’d stirred the pot, and gotten people thinking.
But He’d also gotten himself noticed by the Romans, and the Sanhedrin. This, too, was in fulfillment of prophecy. He got himself beaten, whipped, spat on, mocked, and killed.
He had a sheep to rescue–lots of sheep to rescue.
He did that for me.
When I think about how little I think of myself, or when I look in the mirror and am disgusted, I need to remind myself that the face I see looking at me was created in the image of God, and that same God sent his
down to a filthy, disgusting world to die on my behalf. But this world, filthy as it is, also has a rough beauty about it. There are things about it that are enthralling.
It’s easy to get lost.
And the question remains: what length will God go to rescue even one lost sheep? Search your heart for that answer. See yourself as that lost sheep.