Christine Duncan

Precepts & Life Preservers

Tag: Easter (page 1 of 2)

Paid In Full

Our freedom on this day in history, paid in full on the cross at Calvary!

I wrote an Easter post about freedom a while back. About true freedom.

This week I kept preaching it to myself. I don’t want to take for granted the freedom given.

Not that day two thousand years ago, and certainly not now.

It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t easy, but Friday was a holy payment for a bondage we could never have broken away from on our own.

Easter is about salvation from eternal captivity.

After all the struggle, the battle, the death on the cross, Sunday arrives with boldness.

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His Portion

Easter weekend has drawn to a close, and I realise two things.

One, that even with all the planning and prep in the world, mood disorders will still never acknowledge a holiday. It doesn’t get the memo to take a break. OH how I wish.

And two, that in spite of that fact, when asking for extra portions of patience, energy, focus, and peace, so as to counteract the dysthymic episodes threatening to emerge from the flurry of a busy weekend, God doesn’t just give you ‘a’ portion.

He gives you His portion.

And what a difference that makes.

We need HIS portion of the things we lack. So we can enter into the land of the living this week, and the next.

If you need to counteract the balance of all the symptoms of a brain heading towards another flare-up of chronic depression, as a believer, you need something that will overwhelm the symptoms that overwhelm. It makes sense if you think about it.

And as I was navigating the Easter weekend, trying to keep my mind on the significance of it all, and as well, the tasks and errands and gatherings of it all, and wondering how to shake the growing feelings of mental exhaustion and anxiety and the ability to cope and doubts that were surfacing in a way only chronic D can, I found the following words in my Bible.

And so, appropriately for Easter, I took them to the Cross. The words and the moods and mental faltering. I took them both to the Cross and found what I needed.

“LORD, You are my portion, my inheritance, and my cup of blessing; You hold my future.” Psalm 16:5

Lord, I need You to be my peace when everything seems off. I’ll say with Your Word that You alone are the portion I need, and the blessing waiting for me as I give you my anxiety and exhausted moods that threaten.

“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “Therefore I have hope in Him.” Lamentations 3:24

Lord, I’ll wait on You while I function through this day. You will be more than enough for me. You will be the portion of confidence and rest, and I can place my weary hope there and it is renewed.

“Instead of your shame you will receive a double portion, and instead of disgrace you will rejoice in your inheritance. And so you will inherit a double portion in your land, and everlasting joy will be yours.”
Isaiah 61:7

Lord, I’m just going to claim this promise. No shame for me anymore in stumbling hard through the chaotic weekend or week, just a double portion of all things that are You. No embarrassment that I won’t be able to cut it, just strength and ability in You, and the joy that comes with that.

“I cry to you, LORD; I say, “You ARE my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.” Psalm 142:5

Lord, your Word says You are my protection, from myself, from my disorder, from the fears. I can do all things in You, within Your amazing shelter.

I wanted to shake off the portions of dysthymia that were settling in, and simply enjoy the easter victory we were celebrating. I was never going to be able to do that on my own.

Maybe you know that feeling.

I needed His portion of that Easter Victory.

I will continue to need His portion of that Easter Victory.

Every day.

The Cross and empty tomb promises we will. All year-long.

His portion is ours.

His portion never runs out.

His portion does not disappoint.

If you stop what you’re doing right now, and approach the living God for more of Him, you’ll get a portion that will defy anything the week can bring you.

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Today’s post is gladly part of the #LifeGivingLinkup with Sue Detweiler! Would love to see you over there! Just click on the hashtag above to open the link and have an amazing day!

The Great Mending

Ever been broken-hearted?

I’m sure we all have been at some point or another.

But I’m not talking about being stuck in traffic and missing that concert you waited for all year, or finding out that your favourite pizza shack closed up out of the blue, or alas, your team never made it to the Stanley Cup. Again.

How about a gut-wrenching heart breaking?

Some of you know the feeling of your heart being nearly, irreparably, wrenched into scraps… books and blogs and statuses and therapy groups are flooded with the evidence of heartbreak.

We don’t like to see people with broken hearts and crushed hopes. We prefer to see them mended and whole.

Restored. Healed. Alive.

Never did anyone want to see all of humanity mended, like God did.

His heart broke over our decision to override His precautions in the garden, and then override every commandment and every law meant for our happiness and benefit, and our questioning of every move He made from that point on.

His heart broke at the captivity and abuse and a growing love for evil. Bad choices, bad attitudes, bad legacies like a fast spreading virus. The tide needed to turn.

But how does one mend an entire world’s eternity spun out of control?

Seeing as He’s God, He already had a plan for the Great Mending.

And I read the accounts of the crucifixion in the gospels, and it’s rife with the suffering of the perfect Son of God, procuring the greatest mending there ever was.

And the enormity of it continues to blow me away.

Man was washing our hands of Him, and He was preparing to go the extra mile in spite of us.

And so the Great Mending takes place on a hill called the Place of the Skull.

Already the stench of death sets the scene.

The tool of the Great Mending in the shape of a cross, a torturous and vile execution.

And His perfect Son, blameless, to become the payment made for all our faults, around the world, for all of time. Combine the weight of sin he’d never carried before, with the weight of gravity pressing down on each stake driven into tender, loving, flesh and you have an altogether new kind of heartbreak.

God’s heartbreak over us caused Him the heartbreak of turning His back on His Son.

Heartbreak upon heartbreak.

The Great Mending caused the most terrible suffering.

I know we think we know. How it must have looked. How it must have all went down.

Thorns crushed into the head permanently. Lashings that opened everything up. A massive trek under a massive beam. Hatred thrown at Him. Denial around Him. Betrayal in spite of Him.

Spikes, crude and pinning. Gravity pulling.

For our eternal souls return, he endured. For hours that had never ticked by so slow. Without God’s presence to see Him through.

If ever there was suffering.

I’m reading, and weeping, and I decide to look deep into that word, suffering. It would seem a certain word for suffer is always used in the gospels and New Testament when referring to Christ.

For example, Luke 24:46 which says, “And He said to them, ‘ Thus it is written, that the Christ would suffer and rise again from the dead on the third day…”

This is the Greek word, pathein.

And it means to suffer, to be subjected to and experience something awful, to feel more and more worse-off.

And it is the same as our word suffer, which comes from two words in Latin, sub- from below– and ferre – meaning to bear.

This clutches at my heart this Good Friday.

Because you can’t get much lower than causing an innocent man to bear such torture. You can’t get much lower than the gates of hell imposing the whole vile execution on the holy Son of God.

And God allowing it.

This is where I often stop at the cross.

He allowed it. There was no battling it, for He knew of only one way to rescue us. To bridge the massive gap. He allowed it.

How often do I read the words in Gethsemane and marvel. Jesus asks if it’d be God’s will, to take the cup of suffering from Him. And then accepts His task.

Just like that. That wouldn’t have been easy.

But the motivation for this kind of acceptance, and this kind of sacrificial love? It too stems from the “pathein” version of suffering which verbally is tied to the Christ.

Because one of the derivations of pathein, is our word ‘sympathetic’.

I sit quietly in the early morning and I allow this fact to sink in.

Our God was sympathetic to our whole plight. It powered His unconditional and sacrificial love. And in my head I knew it, but this needs to really lodge in my heart as well.

And His Son? He accepts the role. He’d just spent 30 some years, looking into faces that seemed empty and lost. Touching those who’d been looked down on. He’d looked into eyes so haunted that it’d compel Him to reach into the supernatural over and over to heal them, to free them, to teach them, to raise up, to calm storms, to feed thousands, to remove bondages. One by one.

And it was never going to stop…. unless He stopped it.

There was never supposed to be such suffering.

So He becomes suffering’s ultimate solution.

He suffered with us.

He suffered for us.

He suffered because of us.

This would cover everything. The greatest mending of all time.

And Christ was perfect for it. Literally.

This is the kind of pathein love that goes to great lengths to bring us out of captivity.

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

Good Friday’s good news.

And it was good. It was the beginning of the cycle of victory.

It was the beginning of the end of death’s hold.

Good Friday was the day of Great Mending

Maybe you’ll stand in the shadow of that cross with me.

Maybe you’ll pray alongside of me;

“Lord, Your Marvelous act, Your Great Mending, allows me now to enter into Your presence. A gift and a feat I never would have ever managed in a million years You managed in six hours one Friday on a hill, on the Cross. Because when You looked ahead, You saw the heart of man, lost and helpless, and You wanted us free.
Lord, I pray Your death and resurrection anchors my freedom daily, and that I don’t waste Your Precious gift.

I’m overwhelmed by Your Great Mending, and Your great love for me… then… and now.”

I think we can all lift eyes and hearts with an amen.

Good Friday is only the beginning. A journey to a powerful victory on our behalf when we never deserved it.

Grace, and Mercy, and Love, and Resurrection be yours this weekend, dear friends.

We can go forward from the Cross.

Holding on tight to the greatest mending there ever was.

What We Do With Freedom

Time To Step Out Into Our Freedom
If ever a world holiday represented freedom, Easter does.

What have we done with this exquisite freedom?

This is the question on my heart.

Such an epic transfer of freedom made possible in the course of one day centuries ago on a hillside.

One life for millions. And then millions upon millions to come. A holy transaction in the form of a sacrifice. A daunting price paid in full. Him, for us. The perfect for the flaw-filled. The holy for the captive. The sinless for the sin-filled prisoner.

It IS the greatest gift we’ve ever been given since Eden.

Freedom.

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