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Leaving Our Mark

While leaf blowing recently, I came across these handprints that were left by the previous owners children.

Hands in Cement

The year 2000 is indelibly etched into the cement. Children’s brains were doing something fun and possibly, at the time, naughty. There has been many a time when carvings have been left — sometimes to the dismay of the property owner.

Then there are the markings people make on their bodies — tattoos, ring piercings, etc. I’ve never understood them. They certainly attract my attention — IF that’s what they are meant to do. But not in a good way. I always think “Why would anyone do that to themselves?” For most, it’s optional.

Then I consider a mother whose Son received a mark …

“She saw His hands stretched upon the cross; the hammer and the nails were brought, and as the spikes were driven through the tender flesh, the heart-stricken disciples bore away from the cruel scene the fainting form of the mother of Jesus.” (A Call To Stand Apart, pg 37)

Optional — yes. Jesus never resisted being crucified. That was the only way He could bridge the relationship gap with us.

Love stretched out His arms and for the rest of His life He will bear the scars, the markings, of that love.

It’s time that we as a society stretch out our arms in His love. It’s time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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