It has become routine, a part of my weekly schedule you could say, to grocery shop on Sunday evenings. First I visit Aldi’s, crossing off the majority of items on my list. And then I head to Publix to finish picking up a few odds and ends. I’m happy with this arrangement; it suits our needs and our budget.
Last Sunday was no different. I strolled the aisles, loaded up my buggy with lots of great (and inexpensive) stuff and headed for the cashier. All was going well, until I swiped my debit card.
side bar: Let me cut away here from the story to tell you that it was a new debit card, for which I had not yet received my 4 digit pin in the mail. I’ve been using it as a credit card for a few days while waiting.
I swiped the card and up popped the prompt for my pin, to which I notified the cashier that I needed to use my card as a credit card. And she said, “Oh. that’s not possible. You can only pay with cash or debit.”
I felt myself shrink a bit in horror. My “good times shopping at Aldi” attitude slipped away into oblivion as I realized I had a cart full of groceries for which I could not pay.
Have you heard a story like this one? How maybe a young mother has experienced a generous benefactor behind them in line at the store, who graciously stepped in to pay for their groceries when a similar situation occurred? Have you heard an account like that before?
Well, that’s not my story.
There was no one around to help me. Only a middle-aged, very tired, worn-out looking woman stood a buggy’s length away – and she was frowning from the top of her forehead to the very bottom of her chin.
I whispered to the cashier that I was not able to pay, left my full cart behind and quietly left the store. embarrassed. disappointed. Friends – there was kerry gold gouda and white cheddar for a wonderful price at Aldi’s this week. (Maybe this was the Lord’s deliverance, since I’m supposed to be avoiding dairy right now.)
As I drove home, with no groceries in my trunk, I wondered about what I might learn. I felt like there was something in there somewhere…
During this season of Lent, I find myself being reminded often:
Jesus paid.
As a believer, it is so important to remember, that no matter what kind of bill I rack up – regardless of the sin I commit and the suffering I cause – He has already paid for it all. His death and resurrection cancel out my debt – Paid in Full is written across my account.
No whispers of shame and embarrassment. No heavy-hearted disappointment. No desperate acts of accomplishment to pay my way.
Jesus paid.
But, there’s also this: He purchased my full deliverance in order that I can live, fully alive in Him. I can walk away from whatever I thought I was gaining of earthly importance, because of the most robust life He offers. Really, I can type it, but, I’m still learning how to live like it is true.
Jesus paid.
Only Jesus. Nothing and No one else can take care of things. There is no other rescuer. In my humanity I want to be rescued by my stuff, or my husband, or my own self – but those are false gods. There has never been a time that I could have paid my way – and there never will be. Jesus went to the cross, took the shame and suffering and sin of mankind on himself. He alone paid the price. He alone can set me free.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Can we sing one of my most favorite hymns together? (well, I guess you’ll have to imagine me singing… ) It moves me every time I consider the words.
I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.”
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.
For nothing good have I
Whereby Thy grace to claim,
I’ll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv’ry’s Lamb.
Lord, now indeed I find
Thy power and Thine alone,
Can change the leper’s spots
And melt the heart of stone.
And when before the throne
I stand in Him complete,
I’ll lay my trophies down
All down at Jesus’ feet.
daily portion 