Thanksgiving is here.
Technically, thanksgiving should always be here, don't you agree?
God gives us all things.
For all things we should be thankful.
Hell is the worst thing imaginable and unimaginable. We all deserve it. The mere fact that we are not suffering that fire is a fact that we should be immeasurably grateful for. No suffering or trial on this earth can compare to the suffer an torment awaiting the unbeliever in the depths of Hell. Nothing.
Today I weep tears of sorrow for those who reject God. They go to a place none can grasp. None can comprehend just how horrible it is. They don't think they deserve such a place, and yet who knows what tomorrow may bring? They may die in an instant, a puff of smoke gusted away by the wind; and they suffer an eternity of existence, alone, in flames that never die, never grow cold.
My own sin is so great I am crushed under the mountain of it. I can't take it, can't bear it, can't pay it. Yet God sent His Son to take that mountain. He crushed Himself under that mountain. He looked at me with forgiving eyes and said "It is finished." He bore the intensity of that flame, the weight of that pile, the fire of that wrath intended for my sin, and gave Himself to me...one who kicked Him in the face, one who spat on Him and beat Him even while He suffered for...me.
Lord...why?
I don't deserve this...I can't earn this...I am helpless before the eternity of Hell prepared for me, and I would go there full speed ahead if not for Your Son.
Look at me, trying to say what I can't say! Words can't express the thankfulness I feel. Mere language cannot communicate the debt of gratitude I owe. And yet I try. Lord...forgive me. Forgive me for my inexpressiveness.
Use me, Lord, to snatch others from this eternal fall.
If sinners go to Hell, let them leap over my body, with my hands clutching ever at their heels, crying out in Your name to stop. Begging them to turn.
Use me, Lord.
