Into your hands I commit

It was now about the sixth hour and darkness fell over the whole land...and Jesus crying out with a loud voice, said "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." Having said this he breathed his last...and all his (Jesus') acquaintances and the women who accompanied Him from Galilee were standing at a distance, seeing these things. Luke 24 44-49.

I wish I'd been a woman standing at a distance that day. Because then maybe the blood and the stains and the tears and memory would make me stronger, bolder, wiser. And yet still, I do believe. I believe that my future is secure because of what happened that day, because of Who I know, because of What he did, and most definitely not because of who I am. I know The Savior and he took my wickedness and called me blameless, pure, and holy. And what I am not, is worthy of his gift. And then he had to do it--he didn't stay broken. He in fact, broke deaths rules and came back to his people very much alive, wearing those scars on his hands and his heart on his shoulder. That's the God-man who walked the earth, died and rose again. That's The One who I believe today, and who will bring peace to the earth someday.
Someday.