Into Your Hands I Commit My Spirit

It's Good Friday.  Today I am thinking about a friend I met and worked with years ago.  Her name was Laurie and she was Jewish.  We were friends for a couple of years when we lived in the Seattle, WA area.  We lost track of one another after a few moves but for a time, we were close friends.  Laurie and her husband were hoping to one day live in Israel.  I wonder if they ever made that move?

Laurie taught me some things.  One day she was telling me how hard it was to be a little Jewish girl with little Christian playmates.  I was horrified when she told me that one year, around Easter, the other kids were angry at her and accused her of killing Jesus.  She said she was so upset; she didn't even know Jesus!  How could they think she killed anyone?  My heart hurt for the sweet little girl that faced those angry accusers.

Laurie's little friends were a bit confused, likely because their parents were confused.  At the very base of the Christian Faith is the belief that we are ALL responsible for Jesus' death.  We have ALL sinned.  We ALL needed to be redeemed.  Jesus and only Jesus was pure and because of this, he was the one who could manage to take on all our sin and take the punishment for it.  For that sacrifice, I am grateful.

(photo from Google Images and lakecitybaptist.net)

As Jesus died he said he was committing his spirit to God's hands.  What a perfect thing to say at the time of one's death.  I want to think I will say that as well.  Having a job where I attend deaths, though, I am aware that I may not be awake enough or strong enough to speak those last words at the time of my own death.  So, I'm saying it now.  God, please keep my spirit safe in your hands.