Grace is partial.
Grace is unfair.
Fair requires that the convicted pays a just penalty for their crime.
Fair requires that the innocent be acquitted.
Fair required that I, a chief offender, should pay with the last drop of my blood
For transgression that warranted a death sentence,
The offence that only blood could remit.
Mercy grew a voice and called my name.
Mercy said No! There is no way you would go.
Mercy reached out and saved a soul doomed for hell.
Mercy became a man so he could die in my place.
And die he did, though innocent and without fault.
He chose to die for me, a most shameful death on a cross.
Oh, the cross.
To many, a couple old pieces of wood.
To some, a symbol of shame, disgrace and fatality.
But to me, the very representation of hope, honour and life.
For though my Savior was beaten, ridiculed and killed at the cross,
With Him was crucified my depravity, guilt and ultimate death.
And on the third day, he resurrected!
A victor, a hero – my hero.
The exchange is complete.
See, it is finished.
His death for my death,
My life for His.
Shame for dignity.
Guilt for liberty.
Lack for prosperity.
Sickness for vitality.
I died when he died.
Now I am risen to newness of life.
And I will yet rise, at the ripe time, to reign forever with Him.
Do you believe this?
This can be your story as well.
Happy Easter! Christ is risen!