Soul Snack 8/58 ... Jesus' shoulders
One man, a disfigured, unrecognisable, undesirable man carried my sorrows.
Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows ... Is 53:4a
Shoulders slumped in shame, weighed from my sin and wounded in innocence would be my seat.
Shoulders suspended in torture would ensure that my feet would never have to meet this rotten earth again.
His shoulders are the salve for my sorrows.
When I sit on His shoulders His good, firm and flawless steps move me forward when I can't.
His aches would never over-rule my aches. His pain never too great that He would refuse to take mine.
Upon His shoulders I choose to sit on earth, upon His lap He invites me to sit in eternity.