This is not a book review. Yeah, I stole the title from a book by Max Lucado, but that’s not where I am today.
On Good Friday, I couldn’t get those four words out of my head. In the past, I always thought of them in the context of Jesus allowing the crucifixion to happen, as though he was so involved he may as well have walked up to a bin of nails and personally chosen the ones used to impale his hands and feet.
Friday, I realized there is yet another meaning. Jesus had a choice. He could have stopped the crucifixion at any point. When he was in Gethsemane, sweating drops of blood in agony, asking God to take this cup from him, he could have walked way. Jesus was not obligated to die for us. He chose to. In essence, he chose the nails (and our salvation) over his own life.
It goes so much deeper than that. When God created His law, He alone declared that the only atonement for sin is death. Nobody forced Him to make it that way. He chose to. And He knew all along, before He ever said, “Let there be light,” that man would fall. He knew we’d need a Savior. Yet He still created us, and He still made the law.
Before the earth was even formed, He chose the nails.