It’s Holy Week. A week to reflect upon the days leading up to Jesus’ death. To remember how He was betrayed, arrested, beaten, humiliated in the streets, forced to carry the tool for His own death, spit upon, jeered at, taunted…hated. To remember His crucifixion, hanging on a tree between two criminals, His grace apparent even then. To remember a mother, wrecked and weeping, as she witnessed her first-born treated so shamefully. This child whose arrival was heralded by heavenly hosts, now broken and bleeding.

I would describe myself as a very emotional person. It doesn’t take much to get me crying. This week before Easter, however, can get me pretty raw. When I think about what Jesus has done for me…it’s gut-wrenching, mind-blowing, heart-breaking, life-changing, LOVE. I am forever changed, and forever grateful. I know He died for me. For my sins. I know He was crucified and buried. But I also know that He conquered death. I know that Sunday’s comin’.

That’s my Jesus. I wonder, do you know Him?

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