When All You Want Is Jesus

I may have used this picture before but I just love it. But I have to tell you what I did to it. I printed it off, and I messed it up. Yes, me the girl who cried over her broken Jesus garden statue. I ruined His picture. How, you ask? Let me explain. I would in no way ever show disrespect to the Lord or deface His lovely face. I have cried, I have called my mother, I’ve been to the doctor, but maybe you know what I mean, when you are in so much pain that nothing relieves it and it is 3 a.m., this is who I call, I want this face.

But I did, for this reason. I had scoliosis, then other health problems. As I really sought healing and studied how much He actually did on the cross. I realized He was fully aware of what He came to do, He was perfectly willing to die. Pefectly willing to suffer, to be a burnt offering, to go to hell for the keys that would give me authority as a believer to trample over enemies.

I wrote on the picture Isaiah 53. Then scoliosis, my swollen ankle after a fall, fear. All the things I could think of that He took for me. It was quite a list. I had a problem seeing Him suffering and to know He willingly suffered these maladies and so much more for me, for me to walk.

So that others, could heard or see, all the cancers, the heart conditions, all the depression, the mental torments, all the abuses of sicknesses and diseases, the filth, the the vile , the smell of blood. And to know, it is your own. I tried to think of Passover in His 32nd year, know next yearm He would be that Lamb.

Prisoners were usually either scourged or crucified, not both. We can’t begin to comprehend the horrible beatings. Plucking eyebrows or nose hair can make you cry, what about plucking a beard? The plowmen made deep furrows on His back, His face was mush. And I never loved anyone so much, ever, and I am ashamed that I could not even have looked at Him.

I am not the only one. Now that I have been delivered or seeing Him only as crucified for me and that I can see Him risen and overcoming for me. I can expect His joy, revel in His love. And know that I can walk and run and shout to the world that He is the gentle healer, who loved me so. I overcome by His blood and my testimony. I’m a conqueror because He loves me.

I invite you to run off a picture, write what He took for you. If not on His glorious face all around. I may have to start doing it again as I pray for others, I have see such amazing results. I hope you can too. I know why I have always loved Jesus. He is all I ever wanted, Rebecca Jones

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