The life of Jesus was one of a surrendered life, and certainly one of great suffering.

 

Last night in worship a clear message was coming forward pointing to suffering and sacrifice.

 

Brokenness seems to be a means to wholeness, the way to redemption, and a gift that keeps on giving.

 

None of us want to be broken.

It hurts to be broken.

It takes more time to heal than we want to give, and it takes humility to even acknowledge it.

 

Yet, Christ was broken for us.

We take communion often and repeat the words, “This is your body broken for me” and at times feel no connection at all to that which He is telling us.

 

If it broke Him, it will most surely break us.

 

A sacrificial life will often be noticeable, and the story you’ll often hear behind the scenes is one of brokenness. Where one has suffered deeply, often now seeps the oil.

 

The crushing did its work and a fragrance is now released that is unique and heavenly. There is a drawing by His Spirit even when one isn’t doing a single a thing.

 

Passion usually trails a healed and broken person.

 

They know what it took for Christ to save them. Redeem them. Heal them.

 

The idea that He would choose them is almost unthinkable, and that, my friends, is the perfect place to be.

 

One not acquainted with some form of brokenness draws on his or her own strength. Serving Jesus is a checkmark on a list. A “have to” instead of a “get to.” Nothing more than ritual.

 

But for the woman with the alabaster jar who was scorned by the room, put out of the realm of valuable, and considered an outcast…she is the one He speaks of for generations. For where much is forgiven, there is much love.

 

Suffering is often the mark of a saint.

We can continue in our shallow following of Jesus. We can keep feeding on what my friend calls, “rainbows and cupcakes” or we can surrender to the sacrificial life of the true gospel whereby through His death and suffering came life for you and me.

 

The idea that abundant life is void of pain is counter to the gospel where the call was to die daily to the world, to the flesh, and to our own desires.

 

If we’re honest, we know whether or not we are living a sacrificial life with and for Christ.

 

As the days get darker, and we begin to see the fallacy of always getting from God rather than giving, always living rather than dying, always following the crowd rather than being set apart…many will want answers.

 

There will be a remnant who has been prepared through the fire. They will exemplify the sacrificial life and call to die.

 

The mouthpieces who have prophesied wrongly and erroneously for their own gain and the applause of people will no longer be heard. Their message will be worthless and proven to be a lie.

 

But those who’ve endured….those who took the sword to their lives and hearts…those voices will rise and bring you into a place of truth in Christ.

 

You’ll know them by their fruit. They’ll be grabbing the wounded and dragging them with them into the healing pool. They’ll be preaching repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand. They’ll be reminding you to remember the crown of thorns while you pick up your cross and follow.

 

Drink the cup of Christ.

All of it.

Every last drop.

 

I’ll go to my grave knowing that if you come to Jesus it’s because you knew the cost of following, the pain of the path, the joy of obedience and sacrifice, and you still said, “YES.”

 

These will be those who will lead the front lines in the days ahead.

 

They’ve been prepared for war rather than garden parties.

 

Let it be said of us that we rank with those who preceded us in life and in death. In suffering and in sacrifice.

 

“Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus…”