Saturday night was rough. I held hair back. I washed sheets. I listened as my daughter told me she hopes she gives me the flu. Yes, she said those words.
“I hope I give this to you.”
I laughed at the time, but wasn’t laughing so hard the next day when I doubled over with stomach pains. The whole experience reminds me of what I once heard a pastor share. He explained how Jesus coming to earth was in some ways the equivalent of a parent caring for a sick child. *Excuse the graphic example, but trust me I have a point.
God came into this sin-soaked world. He saw us mucked up with perversion, greed, lust, anger, jealousy…and he stepped near. He held us in our unlovable state. By his death on the cross he bathed us clean. I’ve thought of this example of a holy and pure Jesus immersing himself in our sick world prior to my Florence Nightingale shift with my daughter. But a particular message resonated as I thought about my daughter’s wish.
She wanted me to have her sickness. She wanted it away from her. She wanted to be free from the pain. At the time of caring for her I didn’t keep my distance. I wasn’t cautious to stay back, worrying I’d get infected. I cradled her. I rocked her. I wiped her face time after time. I kept her close to me. I love her. That is what love does.
I don’t know why she said those words, “I hope I give this to you.” But because she said them I understood the analogy of a holy Jesus entering a sin-drenched world with a deeper perspective.
He could have stayed back. He could have opted not to be touched by our mess.
But he didn’t.
He came into it. He even went so far as to become it. On the cross He became our mess so we could be free from the pain.
“Who, being in very nature God did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death…” Philippians 2:6-8
Praise the Lord!
Yucky and beautiful post!!!