Heather and the kids arrived home from vacation yesterday afternoon. Their flight was coming into Raleigh (two-and-a-half hours from here), so I made a few sacrifices yesterday. They weren't grand or applause worthy; they were minor. I took a vacation day, drove through a determined rainstorm, paid for gas, paid for parking, walked for an eternity (apparently, Southwest's terminal is in the Quarantine Quadrant of the airport), carried the world's heaviest luggage to the car, drove back through the perfect storm, listened to twenty-seven stories about grandad's dog, Murphy and, when we got to the house, I unloaded the luggage that, unfortunately, had not lost any weight during the drive. I made a few sacrifices, but I would do it all over again tomorrow. I would do it all over again because it meant that I got to be with the people I love.
Even though it's certainly not to scale, I wonder if this is how Jesus felt? He made sacrifices. I'm not talking about paying a couple of bucks for parking or throwing his back out lifting Heather's obscenely heavy suitcase - He made real sacrifices. He left Heaven; He put on flesh; He lived among us; He was tortured and mocked and brutalized; and He died. He died for you. That was His sacrifice. And He did it because it meant that from now throughout eternity, He gets to be with the people that He loves. As I read the Bible, and as I read of God's great love for humanity, I can't help but get the feeling that He would do it all over again if He had to.
Jesus made sacrifices for you. Jesus met you at the airport. Aren't you glad He did?

When he had spit on the [blind] man's eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, "Do you see anything?"
He looked up and said, "I see people; they look like trees walking around."
Once more Jesus put his hands on the man's eyes...and he saw everything clearly.
(Mark 8:22-25)
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