Just yesterday a coworker and I were discussing our childhood during a brief lull at the eye clinic where we work. We both came from families with financial struggles, and yet we both have some incredible memories.
“I look back at my childhood,” my coworker said, “and I think about all the things my mom paid for me to do, and I’m amazed. I have no idea how she did it.”
I can relate. My family grew up in a worn-out mobile home and with classmates who called us the stinky Lindsays because our clothes smelled musty no matter how many times my mom cleaned them for us. To this day I am still amazed how two young people in their 20s managed to raise five children on a salary I couldn’t live off of as a single woman without a roommate.
“We just made it work,” my mom told me once when I asked her about it. “When you love your kids you’re willing to make impossible sacrifices for them.”
As we approach Passover and the end of Holy Week, I find myself reflecting on what that means for me as a Christian. I can’t help but draw parallels between my mom’s words and Christ’s passion. The Apostle Paul, in writing to the Philippians, stated that Christ:
Who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped but made himself nothing, taking on the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness, and being found in appearance as a man, humbled himself and became obedient to death — even death on a cross!
If that isn’t love making an impossible sacrifice, nothing is.
As a father, God was willing to give up everything for his children despite the fact that they cursed him, defied him, and completely rebelled against him. And we’re still doing it to this day.
But it didn’t matter to him. He came anyway. He endured the torture. He faced the grave. And he overcame. All so I wouldn’t have to.
It was the impossible sacrifice. The one I could never make. And he did it all because of love.