I’m new to the experience of blogging, so yesterday I asked a friend for a topic. Their answer was “Your earliest memory”. I wasn’t sure how helpful that was, as my earliest memory is from about the age of 1 and I can’t expound upon it to any great extent. I was simply a young tot hiding from my mother. I had probably done something which everyone of an age to walk in my family knows is a “no-no”: namely, messed with the pretties in her curio cabinet. All I remember is that I was quite deliberately hiding underneath the dining table and I was aware that mommy was mad at me and I was safer there, because there were chair legs all around me. I had created a prison for myself to escape what was likely a justifiable wrath for my own wrong-doing.
You may think by now that my mom was some sort of monster, coming after a sweet little infant like me. First off, I was not known generally for being very sweet. My nickname was “D”, short for disposition, more specifically a bad one. Stubborn was one of the kinder descriptions given me. I refer to myself simply as “strongly self-willed”. Secondly, I recall clearly my thoughts during this episode. I knew I had done something wrong, and I was running from the consequences. The consequence for all toddlers through the generations who mess with my mom’s curios is a pop on the hand. We’ve all been popped, even my own precious little angels. We all survived the experience. We all know do not touch those trinkets, upon pain of death (or hand-popping)! Finally, I had a lovely and enchanted childhood. My parents are good and loving people. They taught us about right, wrong, and the never-ending love of Jesus. I often think I could have turned out a much different person without their guidance, as by nature I’m a bit contrary and in possession of what might be called a formidable temper. Thank God for hand popping parents! Can you even imagine the life of crime awaiting me had I not learned about consequences early?
As you can see, helpful as my friend’s advice was I had nothing to write about. “Where can I take this? What about a toddler hiding could possibly inspire a blog post?” I thought. So I let my mind wander through some other memories.
My dad was a carpenter. That’s putting it mildly- he built houses. He could pretty much do everything but connect the power and pour the foundation. I remember playing in the wood shavings under his table saw. What fun! Not as soft as sand, but it smelled SO GOOD, and we had sand that was left over from mixing brick mortar so I could play in that, too. My terrible, mean mother put an end to my fun in the wood shavings- she didn’t think it was safe. How dare she infringe upon my right to play next to power tools, right? So mean. Good thing she didn’t know I’d hide in the shed and nail bits of board together with old nails. I was creating.. something. I never figured out what it was supposed to be.
In this manner my thoughts wandered for all of 5 minutes, and I still had no idea what to blog about. There’s just no substance, and the people want substance! Then my thoughts wandered right into a topic that was perfect for my purposes. I think the detour into carpentry did the trick, but suddenly I was thinking about Jesus, and everything seemed to fit.
Today is Good Friday, and on this day we remember a Saviour who died to pay the price for our sins. I know, you’re thinking “How does a hiding toddler and your dad’s work relate to this?”. Allow me to explain; when I was hiding, I was hiding from the expected and justifiable consequences of my actions. I went to a place to escape those consequences that was effectively a prison to me and still did not protect me from my mother. My sins had found me out. I was stuck. I had to pay up. This pattern continues throughout our lives. Our own nature gets us into predicaments that require consequences. Why? Would you rather there were no consequences and we all went about breaking valuables willy-nilly? Of course not. Along comes a Carpenter. He says, “You have sinned, but I’m here to pay the price for you”. You see, we ran up an account that we weren’t able to pay. Over our lifetimes we broke things, lied to people, hurt people, broke hearts, cheated, and generally sullied the living soul we had been blessed with by our Creator. The bill came due. How can we right all the wrongs? We can’t. He can. He wore our sins like a tattered garment and carried them to the Cross. His Blood fell on us and washed our dirtied souls clean.
This Good Friday, remember that you don’t have to hide anymore. There may still be consequences for the things we’ve done, but our absolution is in Him, that perfect Lamb who became our sacrifice and saved us from death. He is Good, and He is very, very, Gracious. God bless.