This morning I had a sick kiddo, so I didn't get to go to church on Easter morning. I'm not sure that's ever happened before. Not in my memory anyway. So, I've been sitting here thinking about what Jesus did for me and what it means.
Because Jesus was killed on that cross...
It means that I'm not bound by any type of religious rules and traditions. It means that by His grace I'm a free woman. It means that nothing I do can get me into Heaven. It also means that not doing something isn't gonna keep me out of Heaven. It means that I don't have to keep track of my "religious tallie marks". It means that I am simply free to be His hands and feet while I am on this planet by taking care of those who are unable to take care of themselves. It means that when I die, I go to Heaven for the simple fact that I believe in Him and accept that His death was for me.
Grace. How awesome is that?
3 comments:
Pretty darn awesome. This is one of the reasons I love Easter. It brings everything into perspective.
Hi there,
I wanted to say a special thanks for your encouragement and for your thoughtful posts. I've nominated you for the Lemonade Award on my blog. I hope you can check it out.
http://teamfitch.blogspot.com/2009/05/awarded.html
All the blessings in the world to you and your family!
This has nothing to do with this post, but I just have to say that Grasshopper and I just woke up from a nap where I found myself dreaming about reading your blog. You had FINALLY put up some new posts, including a long post about driving all the way to Utah so that Prophet could get this special cartoon type action figure that could actually play basketball with him. He needed jerseys for it, and Utah was the place that had them. So you guys drove there. In a day, I think.
So now I'm wondering if that was God telling me to tell you to post, if God was telling me you just went to Utah, or if I simply should not have had the leftover Chips Ahoy cookies my husband brought home from his weekend WAO group event for breakfast.
Well, Grasshopper and I are still in our pjs and it is nearly noon here. I need to go do bathtime. And I'll try not to wish desperately that you could just hop a plane and come back to hang out with him so I could actually get more done than the occasional nap and bath. I NEED to clean my house. The last time the floor got touched was when you were here. How do other mothers do it? Oh yeah, their children actually nap independently for more than five minutes. That would help. Oy.
Missing you.
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