Picture yourself: you are walking across the mall parking lot. You've just really messed up. Your day was nothing but self-glorification, cheating, lying and stealing. You are walking swiftly across the parking lot when, before you know it, you are being shoved out of the way of a truck that you didn't even see coming.
You look behind you and a Man is lying on the ground. Another Man, older than the other, is standing on the other side of Him. He looks at you and says, "He jumped out in front of you. He's my son. I let it happen because I didn't want YOU to die. If I didn't put Him out there, you would've been gone like He is." You stand in front of this Man and his Son and you don't understand. It's totally and completely past your point of comprehension. Your heart is broken because a man just died in your place. He meant to. It was no accident. He purposefully let His life diminish because He wanted you so badly to be able to live yours. You spend what seems like days just staring in wonder at the Father who let His son take your place. You thank Him. You thank Him for hours and hours because without Him.. well.. you'd be gone.
Today, I was driving to school, singing a song at the top of my lungs that lifted up the words "Thank you" to God. Simple lyrics.. thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
All of a sudden, my heart hurt. As I was singing (screaming) these words, it dawned on me that I should be screaming the words "Thank you" every moment of my day. No, I don't mean literally saying those words every time my mouth opens, I mean.. I should be living a life of thankfulness. A man died and suffered so I wouldn't have to, even though I am the one who deserves it. I am begged, called, and expected to live a life that shows how grateful I am for my God's sacrifice. He gave His heartbeat, His champ, his "little man", His one and only, for me. Screwed up, messy, stupid, ungrateful me. I have nothing else to be screaming with my life but a big THANK YOU to my Creator.