Three or four years ago our family of five went to see my folks for Easter. It was the time of year when the winter’s cold was gone and the kids could finally get some time playing outside.
While we were all in their backyard one day, I told my wife and kids about some of the places I used to visit in the woods nearby when I was a kid. On the spur of the moment, we all decided to take a trip into the forest to have a look for ourselves.
Our kiddos have always enjoyed being in the woods, but most of the places we’ve taken them have had nice wide trails that make it easy to get around. There were no trails here, so we had to find our own way. Without really thinking too much about it, my plan was to bring them into the woods through one section, then bring them down to see some cool spots along the creek, and then start coming back up through a different area.
We got down to the creek, and I showed them an old well, then brought them to the spot where some of us slid down a natural waterslide and built dams as kids. I had a childhood friend whose dad loved golf; in order to work on his swing, he’d stand in his yard and drive old golf balls into the forest. As a kid, friends and I would come across some of these golf balls while playing in the woods; they were always in the same general area, so he must’ve had a consistent swing. J Now, with my own family in tow, I told my kids to keep an eye out for golf balls. Sure enough, we found at least one.
As we started heading back, I took them along an easy route I followed when I was younger. It’s a funny thing though, if you stay out of a forest for 10 or 15 years, you might be surprised at how much it changes while you’re gone.
We crossed back over the creek and started heading back up the hill. It started getting tricky, though, because in our path were numerous thorn bushes I didn’t remember running into before. We’d make some progress up the hill, only to run into a spot that was too thick for us to pass, so we’d have to scoot sideways or even come back down the hill some. There were spots where we could squeeze through, but I had to step on a few thorny branches and hold back others with one hand while my kiddos carefully passed through.
It’s not so bad when you’re tall enough to see over the thorn bushes, but when you’re only about three feet tall and Mom and Dad don’t seem to know where they’re going, it can be scary and even overwhelming. My kids started getting worried, even coming to the verge of tears, so I stopped being delicate with the thorns in order to move us along faster. Instead of grabbing them with just a finger and thumb, I pushed them aside and held them out of the way with the back of my hand so we could make wider openings and move toward our goal a little quicker.
It was slow going, but the kids hung in there and we finally made it out of the woods. As the panic subsided, the kids noticed that one of my hands had a surprising amount of blood on it. I didn’t have any bad cuts, but the thorns had scratched me enough that it caused the blood to start flowing. It looked much worse than it actually was, but my daughter was very concerned because of how much blood she saw. Through her eyes, all she knew was that Daddy was bleeding so that the rest of them could safely pass through the dangerous spots.
As we had approached Easter that year, we had been talking more frequently about the suffering Jesus endured aside from the cross. The beatings, the humiliation, the crown of thorns, the sheer indignity, and all sorts of other often-forgotten things are still part of the story. He was so weak from the beating and other types of suffering that He couldn’t even carry the cross, as the condemned often did. My wife voiced the connection, using our adventure as an object lesson. It’s like it clicked for my oldest daughter. He took my place. I escaped the suffering because someone else did it for me.
I don’t know where you are in life, or if you consider yourself a spiritual person. None of that changes the fact that Christ paid for the price of your admission into Heaven. You can’t earn it, you can’t pay your own way, and you can’t pay Him back. The only way to get into Heaven is to use the ticket He bought you. He bought tickets for everyone, but only a small percentage of people take Him up on the offer.
He’s holding out a ticket for you, and He wants you to take it. Will you accept it?
