I have a brother and sister who died in a plane crash when they were 10 and 14 years old. Although I only have one memory of them, I definitely felt their absence growing up. My father will tell you that he still does.
Dad was in denial for a while after they died. I would’ve been too. Their plane crashed into the Gulf of Mexico and rescue teams never found any wreckage or bodies.
I remember one time when I was a kid, dad painted such a vivid picture of his reunion with Rhonie and Scottie in heaven that I began jumping up and down in the living room and wanting to go there and see them too. That must have been a bittersweet moment for Dad.
It’s hard for me to imagine what it would be like to lose one of my children — I don’t want to imagine it. God doesn’t have to though. He knows quite well what it’s like.
He held back and watched as His Son was bludgeoned and beaten and whipped and spat upon and nailed to a cross with no mercy. What His tears must have been like that Friday afternoon.
Then Sunday morning came.
I can’t wrap my mind around what that must have been like for Father God, but I’ll bet my dad can — a Father heartbroken after the death of His child, devastated by the horror of such a violent end to such a beautiful life.
I can almost picture Father God at the resurrection — His face exploding with the most radiant smile in all of eternity saying, “There you are!” and welcoming His Son back from the dead.
The reunion that Jesus had with His Dad is something like the reunion that my siblings will one day have with my dad. It’s the same reunion that you and I will experience when, after we die, we step into the arms of our eternal Father. And our Father’s joy will be multiplied in knowing that it’s only possible because of His beloved Son, in whom He is well pleased.
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