He Carried It

He Carried It

Today I am thinking about the weight He carried. Not just the physical cross — though that was real — but everything the cross represented: every wound, every shame, every broken thing in human experience, taken on by the One who had none of His own.

Isaiah 53:4-5 describes it with startling specificity: He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows... he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities. This is not abstract theology. It is a body in pain, an act of love so costly it is almost incomprehensible.

Today I am not rushing to Sunday. I am standing at the foot of the cross, and I am saying thank you.