Bread For The Journey / High Hopes Part 1~ Good Friday~

1 Peter 1:18-19

For you know that God paid a ransom to save you from the empty life you inherited from your ancestors. And the ransom he paid was not mere gold or silver. It was the precious blood of Christ, the sinless, spotless Lamb of God.

If you join us regularly you will see that today's devotional is much longer than what we usually do. I want to share with you a devotional that comes from one of my all time favorite devotional books called, "Diapers, Pacifiers and other Holy Things" written by Lorraine Pintus. I give this book as baby gifts. It is a great book of encouragement to women of all ages, even though it was written with young moms in mind. Likely written out of her own life experiences as a young mother in hopes to encourage others. I love this devotional, please take the extra time to read it, it is so worth your while.
If you would like further information regarding Lorraine Pintus her books and speaking engagements here is her website;
lorrainepintus.com
This devotional is so fitting for this Easter weekend. I am overwhelmed with His personal sacrifice for me......

If ever a mother had high hopes for her son, it was Mary. When God arranges a miraculous conception, a birth heralded by angels, and visitation by royalty, something big is in the works.
As Jesus kicked within Mary's womb, She knew her child was destined for the greatest greatness. Set apart to lead a nation. Called to deliver God's own people.
Chosen for........a cross?
As Mary Gazed from the foot of a cross toward her beaten, dying son, what did she feel?
Anger? Of course! Her innocent son, humble and loving, hung on the nails of other people's sin. Righteousness suffered at the hands of the guilty. Good crucified while evil walked free. Such injustice was an outrage!
Agony? Certainly! Her heart broke over her own inability to comfort her firstborn during His hour of greatest need. She longed to wipe the blood from His feet, to put cold cloths on His swollen eyes and to gently clean the gouges in His back where the whip had slashed His skin. As His collapsing lungs gasped for air, her own breath became a curse to her, a reminder that while life flowed through her, it flowed out of her dying son.
But the emotion Mary felt most strongly, the emotion that pulled her to her knees and ripped through her soul, was despair. Cruel, hateful despair that smashed her dreams, shattered her faith, and left her screaming in silent darkness, "Why"?
Why, God? Why did You allow this to happen to Your beloved? Why didn't You stop Pilate before he pronounced the sentence? You sent fire from heaven to save Elijah and consume the prophets of Baal. Couldn't You have done the same to save Your own Son?
Why, God? You told Isaiah to announce His coming. You sent an angel to proclaim He would be a king. You said He'd sit upon the throne of David, that He would reign forever, why did you promise these things of they were never to be?
Why did you give Him power to heal the sick? to scatter demons? to raise the dead? Why did You stir up a nation through Him only to let Him die?
When He was two years old, You snatched Him from the jaws of death, For what? For this? For a cross?
A picture flashed through Mary's mind. Three days earlier she had watched as the people lined the road at the Mount of Olives, joyfully praising God, waving palm branches as Jesus road into Jerusalem on a donkey.

"Hosanna!" they shouted. "Blessed is the king of Israel" (John 12:13).

Mary was certain, then that Jesus would come into His kingdom. But the people turned on Him. Shouts of "Hosanna" became cries of "Crucify Him!" Rather than Jesus leading the Jews, the Jews had led Him......to Golgotha. Instead of raising Him to a throne, they had lifted him on a cross.
"King of the Jews" mocked the sign above his head. Mary longed to rip it down, to throw it at the sneering crowd and scream "Look what you've done to my son!"
Instead, she slumped at the cross and wept. It was too late. Her son would die. Jesus would never be king. the people had lost their Savior.
God had failed.
Or had He?
Join us Easter Sunday for the rest of the story.
Permission granted by Lorraine Pintus to post this devotional.