Hello, Lord Jesus. Thanks for making the time to talk with me today. I have some questions that have been on my mind, and I’m grateful for this interview opportunity. Now let’s get right down to it.
Was the air electric with excitement when You decided to create the hosts of heaven?
Did Your heart swell with emotion when all the heavenly beings surrounded the throne and worshiped You for the first time?
Were You angry when Lucifer rebelled and led so many others astray?
And how did it feel when You had him thrown out of heaven along with all those who chose him over You?
What was it like when You, Spirit, and Father decided to create a new world?
What fun you must have had creating all things by simply speaking them into existence.
Were You ecstatic to finally create Man and Woman, knowing that they would love You and walk
with You in that beautiful garden?
Your plan was brilliant: set the Garden before them as a model and have them take that beautiful environment and spread it everywhere they went.
And then came The Fall.
It must have been excruciating for You to see Adam choose someone else over You. After all, You knew full well what all the consequences and ramifications would be, not only for him but for the entire human race.
I can only imagine all the work that went into orchestrating every single moment, every circumstance from that moment forward to prepare The Way for mankind to be rescued from sin’s grip.
And then came the day You would put on flesh and walk among us.
Were You nervous? Giddy? Somber? Full of joy?
I don’t know if I could’ve done it. Just being honest. I give up too easily; I would’ve probably just incinerated the whole thing and started over.
But You did come.
How different it must have been for You here on earth when You came to us as the God-Man.
In heaven You were limitless; here You had boundaries and limitations.
Never before did You grow tired or weary, but in Your humanness, You did every day.
You slept under the very stars You numbered and called by name.
You were used to a heavenly host surrounding Your throne in worship, but when You came to Your own people, they didn’t even know You.
In heaven, You were The King of Kings, exalted on a throne; here on earth, You were a peasant who didn’t even have a place to lay His head.
The Bread of Life got hungry; The Living Water got thirsty.
In heaven, You were outside of time as we know it; here on earth, You were bound by time and felt its full effects.
The Ancient of Days became a baby and lived a mortal life.
The Eternal One gave up His Spirit and died.
Tell me, what was it like to have to fight so hard against religion and religiosity?
Did it make Your blood boil?
Did You ever want to throw bolts of lightning at the Pharisees? Or beam them right into God’s presence and watch the expressions on their faces? I guess someday You will…never mind.
And how great was it to be able to say, “Lazarus, come out!” or, “Little girl, get up!”
I can’t even begin to imagine how it felt, knowing they were foreshadowing what would soon be Your experience — to die and be raised to life again by Spirit.
What was Your greatest worry for Your disciples that night when everything fell apart?
How did You find the strength to go through with The Plan?
And how deep did You have to dig to pronounce forgiveness on the ones who orchestrated Your utter humiliation and death?
What was it like preaching about Your plan, Your way out, to all those who had already died? And how did it feel to take those keys from Death and Hades? Did You do a cartwheel and let out a war whoop?
Who did You want to see first after You came back to life? Why?
What emotions were going through Your mind and heart as You ascended back into heaven?
And what was Your reception there like? I can’t even imagine how amazing that moment was…the Victorious Lamb, roaring like a Lion, taking His rightful place next to Father.
Well, we’re out of time. I have so many questions, Lord, but not enough time today to get to all of them. Maybe one day, when I see You face to face, I’ll finally have the chance to ask them all.
Or maybe on that day, they won’t even matter.
~ Cathy Schrock, writer
~ Deana Harvey, visual artist
