Last week I dropped my husband off at the airport so that he could go on his first international business trip. I was nervous. Partially at the thought of having three small children by myself for a week and partially, because the love of my life was not only going to be in another country, but on another CONTINENT! I was feeling seriously uneasy.
On my way out of the airport terminal, I ran into my husband's assistant who was one of the 3 people accompanying him on the trip and I jokingly told her "Take care of him for me." Well...I was half joking. :0)
As I drove away from the airport, I settled into my own worried spirit and fretted for a few miles down the road. So many things could go wrong. I had given my husband's life over into the hands of other people.
And as I drove, a small voice whispered in my spirit "How do you think I felt when I gave my son's life over?"
I was floored. First of all, because I have never heard the voice of God so clear ever in my entire life. And secondly, I had a profound sense of....well...stunned silence.
Here I was fretting over what might be, when God gave his son over to a people who he knew would betray, humiliate, beat and eventually murder on a cross.
What love is this? Yes...I love my husband more than anyone on this planet and I hope to grow old and grey with him. But God's love for me is even bigger than the love I hold in my heart for my husband.
His love is bigger because he gave what was most important to him, with the foreknowledge that his son's death was the only thing that could save this fallen world.
I am humbled...in a small way I am shamed because I had forgotten in the hustle and bustle of my everyday life, the all-encompassing, all-consuming, sacrificial love of God.
And I am challenged...to remember everyday what way given so that I might live and to pass it on to a dead and dying world.
I hope this story challenges you not to forget....
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