Tag Archives: saved

Good Friday – The Story of Us

A young man squatted in a dingy prison cell. His features were hidden by the deep shadows of his dark imprisonment. Only a thin plane of sunlight penetrated the darkness, revealing countless dust particles floating around rows of disheartened men. The man was seated, away from the light, staring, motionless, into the darkness.

Outside the prison, upon a hill, stood the place of execution, where condemned men were put to death. Today would be this man’s turn. In a way, death was a welcome ending to his pain. However, more strongly, the condemned man felt the fear of death’s mysteries. His soul, it seems, had died long ago, but the fear of physical death consumed every fiber of his being.

As he waited in the cruel anticipation of a violent death, his mind raced across the span of his life. What would have made a difference? What could have changed his inclinations towards evil? The answers to these questions could only be tossed out into his universe of despair. Like always, he knew no answers would come. There was no hope, never had there been hope.

Slowly and ever more increasingly, the young man became aware of the sounds of a great number of voices. There were shouts and roars, but none of the words could be recognized. The sounds increased and erupted past him like a huge ocean wave. An enormous mass of shouting people had passed just outside his cell and were proceeding toward execution hill. The time was near. The man could not remember so great a crowd ever gathered to witness a death before.

Just then, the outside door of the prison was slammed open hard against the wall. Keys jiggled and the main security door was unlocked. Prison guards streamed towards his cell. The hopeless man trembled and recoiled in fear. Death was pouncing upon him.

The guards unlocked his cell and converged upon him like many wild tigers. They seized him, and drug him out into the morning sunlight outside the prison. When they had cleared the outside door of the prison, he was slammed face down hard on the ground. The impact knocked him into a daze. In a semi unconscious state, he waited for the first slapping sting of the lashing whip.

After a while, he senses quickened and he slowly opened his eyes, spitting dust from his mouth. He tilted his head slowly, expecting his flesh to be ripped open at any moment.

Amazingly, he was alone.

People were flowing in masses towards execution hill, but he was left unattended on the ground.

Slowly at first, but with increasing urgency, the freed man got up and made his way into an old warehouse, across the block from the prison. Looking around as he fled, he expected his fantasy to end at any moment. He made it to the abandoned building and flung himself sobbing to the ground.

After a long while, the man’s curiosity couldn’t be contained. He left the building and circled around the back of execution hill. He came up upon the crowd and mixed himself safely among the masses. With much effort, he fought his way through until he could see what the commotion was all about.

Three men hung dying on crosses, the pain etched across their faces. Two of the men he knew from his time in prison, but he didn’t recognize the man in the middle. This man seemed much weaker and closer to death than the others. He stood watching the dying man with blood gushing down the wood of the middle tree. A strange magnetism drew his soul, locking him in on the suffering criminal.

Their eyes met. Though he was among a mass of people, the man on the middle cross was looking directly at him. The dying man’s eyes were not desperate and frantic, but peaceful and loving.

After a few moments the freed man turned and walked away. As he fought his way back through the crowd, he overheard someone asking about the man on the middle cross, “Why are they killing him, what has he done?”

“He’s done nothing wrong,” the answer came. “He’s dying in place of a man set free.”

Exchanged Life

He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him Second Corinthians 5:21

What would it feel like to find yourself in a prison cell, sentenced to die? Yet, being released at the last hour for another to die in your place. A man free of wrong, willing to die for you. This is our story.

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 Novels by the Author:

Rob Buck

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

Good Friday – The Story of Us

A young man squatted in a dingy prison cell. His features were hidden by the deep shadows of his dark imprisonment. Only a thin plane of sunlight penetrated the darkness, revealing countless dust particles floating around rows of disheartened men. The man was seated, away from the light, staring, motionless, into the darkness.

Outside the prison, upon a hill, stood the place of execution, where condemned men were put to death. Today would be this man’s turn. In a way, death was a welcome ending to his pain. However, more strongly, the condemned man felt the fear of death’s mysteries. His soul, it seems, had died long ago, but the fear of physical death consumed every fiber of his being.

As he waited in the cruel anticipation of a violent death, his mind raced across the span of his life. What would have made a difference? What could have changed his inclinations towards evil? The answers to these questions could only be tossed out into his universe of despair. Like always, he knew no answers would come. There was no hope, never had there been hope.

Slowly and ever more increasingly, the young man became aware of the sounds of a great number of voices. There were shouts and roars, but none of the words could be recognized. The sounds increased and erupted past him like a huge ocean wave. An enormous mass of shouting people had passed just outside his cell and were proceeding toward execution hill. The time was near. The man could not remember so great a crowd ever gathered to witness a death before.

Just then, the outside door of the prison was slammed open hard against the wall. Keys jiggled and the main security door was unlocked. Prison guards streamed towards his cell. The hopeless man trembled and recoiled in fear. Death was pouncing upon him.

The guards unlocked his cell and converged upon him like many wild tigers. They seized him, and drug him out into the morning sunlight outside the prison. When they had cleared the outside door of the prison, he was slammed face down hard on the ground. The impact knocked him into a daze. In a semi unconscious state, he waited for the first slapping sting of the lashing whip.

After a while, he senses quickened and he slowly opened his eyes, spitting dust from his mouth. He tilted his head slowly, expecting his flesh to be ripped open at any moment.

Amazingly, he was alone.

People were flowing in masses towards execution hill, but he was left unattended on the ground.

Slowly at first, but with increasing urgency, the freed man got up and made his way into an old warehouse, across the block from the prison. Looking around as he fled, he expected his fantasy to end at any moment. He made it to the abandoned building and flung himself sobbing to the ground.

After a long while, the man’s curiosity couldn’t be contained. He left the building and circled around the back of execution hill. He came up upon the crowd and mixed himself safely among the masses. With much effort, he fought his way through until he could see what the commotion was all about.

Three men hung dying on crosses, the pain etched across their faces. Two of the men he knew from his time in prison, but he didn’t recognize the man in the middle. This man seemed much weaker and closer to death than the others. He stood watching the dying man with blood gushing down the wood of the middle tree. A strange magnetism drew his soul, locking him in on the suffering criminal.

Their eyes met. Though he was among a mass of people, the man on the middle cross was looking directly at him. The dying man’s eyes were not desperate and frantic, but peaceful and loving.

After a few moments the freed man turned and walked away. As he fought his way back through the crowd, he overheard someone asking about the man on the middle cross, “Why are they killing him, what has he done?”

“He’s done nothing wrong,” the answer came. “He’s dying in place of a man set free.”

Exchanged Life

He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him Second Corinthians 5:21

What would it feel like to find yourself in a prison cell, sentenced to die? Yet, being released at the last hour for another to die in your place. A man free of wrong, willing to die for you. This is our story.

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 Novels by the Author:

Rob Buck

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

Good Friday – The Story of Us

A young man squatted in a dingy prison cell. His features were hidden by the deep shadows of his dark imprisonment. Only a thin plane of sunlight penetrated the darkness, revealing countless dust particles floating around rows of disheartened men. The man was seated, away from the light, staring, motionless, into the darkness.

Outside the prison, upon a hill, stood the place of execution, where condemned men were put to death. Today would be this man’s turn. In a way, death was a welcome ending to his pain. However, more strongly, the condemned man felt the fear of death’s mysteries. His soul, it seems, had died long ago, but the fear of physical death consumed every fiber of his being.

As he waited in the cruel anticipation of a violent death, his mind raced across the span of his life. What would have made a difference? What could have changed his inclinations towards evil? The answers to these questions could only be tossed out into his universe of despair. Like always, he knew no answers would come. There was no hope, never had there been hope.

Slowly and ever more increasingly, the young man became aware of the sounds of a great number of voices. There were shouts and roars, but none of the words could be recognized. The sounds increased and erupted past him like a huge ocean wave. An enormous mass of shouting people had passed just outside his cell and were proceeding toward execution hill. The time was near. The man could not remember so great a crowd ever gathered to witness a death before.

Just then, the outside door of the prison was slammed open hard against the wall. Keys jiggled and the main security door was unlocked. Prison guards streamed towards his cell. The hopeless man trembled and recoiled in fear. Death was pouncing upon him.

The guards unlocked his cell and converged upon him like many wild tigers. They seized him, and drug him out into the morning sunlight outside the prison. When they had cleared the outside door of the prison, he was slammed face down hard on the ground. The impact knocked him into a daze. In a semi unconscious state, he waited for the first slapping sting of the lashing whip.

After a while, he senses quickened and he slowly opened his eyes, spitting dust from his mouth. He tilted his head slowly, expecting his flesh to be ripped open at any moment.

Amazingly, he was alone.

People were flowing in masses towards execution hill, but he was left unattended on the ground.

Slowly at first, but with increasing urgency, the freed man got up and made his way into an old warehouse, across the block from the prison. Looking around as he fled, he expected his fantasy to end at any moment. He made it to the abandoned building and flung himself sobbing to the ground.

After a long while, the man’s curiosity couldn’t be contained. He left the building and circled around the back of execution hill. He came up upon the crowd and mixed himself safely among the masses. With much effort, he fought his way through until he could see what the commotion was all about.

Three men hung dying on crosses, the pain etched across their faces. Two of the men he knew from his time in prison, but he didn’t recognize the man in the middle. This man seemed much weaker and closer to death than the others. He stood watching the dying man with blood gushing down the wood of the middle tree. A strange magnetism drew his soul, locking him in on the suffering criminal.

Their eyes met. Though he was among a mass of people, the man on the middle cross was looking directly at him. The dying man’s eyes were not desperate and frantic, but peaceful and loving.

After a few moments the freed man turned and walked away. As he fought his way back through the crowd, he overheard someone asking about the man on the middle cross, “Why are they killing him, what has he done?”

“He’s done nothing wrong,” the answer came. “He’s dying in place of a man set free.”

Exchanged Life

He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him Second Corinthians 5:21

What would it feel like to find yourself in a prison cell, sentenced to die? Yet, being released at the last hour for another to die in your place. A man free of wrong, willing to die for you. This is our story.

Finding a Friend in Need

Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Mathew 5:3

 Being in need is not a bad thing. In fact it’s essential to our spiritual journey.

Robbie is my friend. I met him a few years ago at a men’s conference at Myrtle Beach. After the conference was over, I discovered he was homeless.  This was very humbling for me to find out.

Over the years, Robbie has attended our small group and our church. We’ve meet his niece and he has become very dear to us.

He’s had a stable place to live a few times, but he mostly rotates between  the Oliver Gospel Mission and an abandoned building  he calls the ‘Camp site’. He gets work when he can.

For all he’s going through, I’ve never heard him complain.

We communicate mostly through facebook messaging when he’s at the library, or when he can find a WIFI hot spot for his track phone.

One afternoon, a few months ago,  we agreed to hang out for a while. I picked him up at the library and we went to Lizard’s Thicket, a local restaurant.

“Order whatever you want Robbie,” I said as I slid in the booth across from him.

“You’re not getting anything?” he asked.

“No, I’ve already eaten.”

Robbie closed up the menu. Even though he hadn’t eaten since an early morning breakfast at the mission, he thought it impolite to eat in front of me.

“Alright, I’ll get some fried okra,” I agreed.

Robbie grinned and opened the menu back up.

Later, as we were eating, I asked Robbie how his day was going. “It’s a beautiful day and I’m sitting here eating fried chick and okra with you, how could it not be a great day?” he chuckled.

“Do they let you keep your stuff at the mission?” I asked, as I forked a couple of okra.

“Not really,” he replied.

“So where do you keep your things?”

“I have a few  clothes at the campsite, but  my stuff’s in a  book bag in your back seat.”

Wow! Most of Robbie’s earthly possessions were in my back seat. This was  inconceivable to me. My friend was acutely aware of his need in a way I’d never experienced.

Being in need is actually something I’ve avoided; partly because of pride, but mostly because of the vulnerability of having to depend on someone else.

Spiritually speaking, being needy is an absolute necessity. I can’t earn my way to heaven. I need the death and sacrifice of Jesus to blot out my sins and grant me access to heaven. But I also need Him moment by moment as I seek to live a Christ-like life.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Poor in spirit means embracing our spiritual poverty. We must know we need Jesus.

Not only do we need the death of Jesus to be acceptable to a holy God, but we need to depend upon the life of Jesus in us to live moment by moment. There’s only one person who can live a true Christ-like life and it’s not us, it’s Jesus in us.[1] The Sermon on the Mount teaches us this.

The word “saved”, used in Romans 5:8-10, not only means delivered (as in rescued from eternal separation from God), but it also means to be healed and made whole. We are to continually embrace  our need of Jesus, knowing that apart from Him we can do nothing. [1]

Challenge: Think about an area of your life you’re still trying to live in  your own abilities. Take a moment and embrace your need for Jesus in this area.  Hand’s open, surrender it  to Him.

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Lord, I’m sorry for the times I haven’t fully trusted you and tried to live on my own. I need you desperately. Please show me when I forget my great need for you.

By the way. today is Robbie’s birthday. If you know him, wish him a happy one. He is a blessing to many.

[1] John 15:5