Last One There Is A Rotten Egg!

II Corinthians 5:21

Hi Everyone ~  

Every muscle in my body tensed from the chilling night air and bitter wind whipping around the edges of the Georgia Dome.  To keep from shivering to oblivion, as soon as we exited the stadium I picked up the pace to a near jog.  I say jog.  I’m not sure how fast I could possibly run in the new shoes I wore. I had forgotten my regular shoes.  Thankfully, my husband Ronnie let me stop at the outlet on the way up to the games to find something w/ a heel. The only footwear I could find looked more like loafers on steroids than any kind of shoe I would typically prefer to wear with my dress jeans. I couldn’t decide what looked worse, the chunky thick and tall shoes or pant legs rolled up to my knees.  I went with the new heel want-to-be’s.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg.”  I threw the challenge over my shoulder to my boys, Ronnie and his son Chandler (Side bar: Please don’t fault me for not referring to Chandler as my stepson… The Cinderella story may have something to do with the sour taste in my mouth for the term “stepmom”. What in the world does that mean anyway?   Just know that I love Chandler very much.  Chan & I don’t get the label “step” so we don’t use it unless absolutely necessary…ok back to the story…), lagging behind me.  I never would have mentioned the contest if a) I thought they’d take me up on it. I figured we were all too tired and cold to play a game.  And b) if I hadn’t been far enough ahead to win should they did decide to participate.

I made it to the first parking lot when I sensed that someone shadowed closer to me than they did a few minutes ago.  I glanced over my shoulder to see Chandler in a full run and gaining ground quickly.  My heart skipped a beat. Ronnie had quickened his step dodging behind the pillar in hopes of me not seeing him sneaking up on my lead. Ah nuts!  I should have known they couldn’t pass up a contest. If I picked up my pace I figured I could still beat them to the car looking like the adult woman I meant to be with new shoes unscathed in my dress jeans, sparkly belt and blazer.

By the time I made it to the narrow steep steps leading to the last leg before the car, Chandler succeeded in gaining enough ground to force me to a decision.  I could continue my gentle rush to the car preserving my grown up dignity and most assuredly be the rotten egg. Or I could cast all public opinion aside; break into a dash to the car and thus making Chandler & Ronnie the rotten egg.  My Anderstrom competitive side kicked in and before I knew what hit me I found myself in a full out sprint toward the Navidawg. (Technically a Navigator, but true Georgia fans have no gator in their cars.)

I had every reason to abandon the win. My lungs burned, my feet were stiff from the new shoes and the crowd exiting the stadium had thickened.  That didn’t stop me from flying up the steps.  Chandler had closed the gap but if I poured it on, I could be the victor!  I held the lead with only a few car lengths to go. Chandler increased the urgency and landed just steps behind me. I gave a final push...When suddenly I realized it wasn’t looking good for the home girl when my head pulled ahead of my knees. I managed to don this lovely stride about 5 more steps before the all out sprawl, just feet from the prize. From the gravel I watched as Chandler’s feet sailed past my mangled body to the car.

This crash and burn incident assembled quite a gathering of concerned LSU fans wondering if the crazy lady with the clodhopper shoes would be ok. Somehow I crawled into the car without throwing up every bit of popcorn I’d inhaled during the game.  Immense pain shot through out my body.  My hands and knees were bloody; my lungs were on fire from the sprint and the freezing wind, and my side…oh, my side!  My sparkly belt wanted to join in the fun by embedding itself into my skin.

The initial pain of receiving those wounds cannot compare with the debilitating sting of trying to clean them.  It required every bit of adult maturity and discipline I could muster to slip into that soapy tub.  After nearly passing out from the shock, I honestly considered trying to make it without the painful process of cleansing the lesions.

God chooses the most unique ways to teach lessons… Although the contest debacle itself proved to be fun addition to the family’s memory bank, the impact of the after shocks deeply impressed me. I have a high pain tolerance, but as I gingerly dipped my hands and knees into the warm bathwater I became acutely aware of something.  My discomfort could not compare to the anguish Jesus endured during the crucifixion.  As the sting of my wounds stole my breath, my heart swelled with thankfulness for my Redeemer who endured horrific torture and humility in my place.  I bowed in shame for the numerous times I’ve taken for granted the cost He paid for me.  Jesus did all of this because He desired to be in relationship with me.  He knew I couldn’t do it alone. “For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.”  Romans 5:6 He pushed aside his dignity, pride and His own comfort to rescue me, and “…gave Himself a ransom for all.”  I Timothy 2:6a. 

Christ offers His death as a gift to all who will recognize their sin and call upon Him.  “that if you confess with your mouth the LORD Jesus (Jehovah is salvation) and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”  Romans 10:9 (parenthesis added). I thank God for the day as a young girl I invited Jesus into my heart to be my Savior.

I realize I’ll never fully grasp the ransom He paid on my behalf, but I thank Him for my injuries and the teeny glimpse they provided into the sacrifice He offered.  God’s Son exchanged His glory and perfection for my selfish sin and failure. “For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” II Corinthians 5:21 May my life reflect that great and glorious exchange! 

Have you made the great exchange?  My friend, if you have not traded your sin for Jesus’ righteousness, don’t wait another second.  Tell Him you know you’re a sinner.  Tell Him you know He died on that cross and rose again to pay the debt you owe and to take your place.  Tell Him you want to accept His gift and invite Him in your heart and your life.  Tell Him you want Him to be your Heavenly Father.

If you asked Christ into your heart just now, may I be the first to welcome you to the family! I encourage you to tell someone you’ve invited Jesus into your heart and become a part of a community (church) of Christ followers who believe the Bible.  I'd love to hear from you too! 

Hope & Glory!  To You ~ Love

Rebecca

Golgatha ~ The place of the skull ~ Where Jesus took my place...and yours!