Daily Resurrection Power this Easter Season:

Day 4 - Purchase

He would not leave Me. This I knew. But how the body of My flesh denied it once. In council of old determined, to purchase again sons for God and bring them up from the grave, Israel, My glory. For this reason I had come. Gone now from shock and beating, beyond the jagged edge of the beam that clawed the open flesh upon My back. Beyond spike plowed tendons piercing between My bones in hands and feet or Roman hammers drowning out snarling priests and their company so blind. A veil fast falling on them as it fell on Me and for a time they could not recognize that it was I who had redeemed them. I was He who kept His word to Abraham My friend.

Shema Israel! Embrace your only son. One for many.

In the din a pure mother gasped as if she was dying with Me and but a remnant of those who knew Me as I AM remained. Darkness rose before Me. Powers of hell surrounded Me with gaping mouths and hungry eyes. No gravity of earth, the mass that dragged Me down. A ship, My body was the vessel, going under for the last time, and sin, My cargo. My flesh hung there suspended as a love gift, Golgotha as His altar. I had come at His good pleasure. His propitiation made. An offering, a sweet smell of evening incense rising while My Father breathed Me in.

The Spirit wept and I was handed over. Soldiers’ hammers pounding out the sentence beat by beat. Divine Perfection’s sledge in justice being done as life for life I gave, the Lamb for His house. Scapegoat for His nation.

Passive mass, weight of trespass, treachery, ignorance and death hanging on Me while this storm raged, My Galilee crossing. Error of every son from the dawn of human time until time’s setting poured into Me at the entrance to the city. My body that city’s temple, destroyed. Taking in stride the rebel’s death, My sentence nailed above the One who would be king. Darkness fell at noon and I would become their light. With this storm’s passing I’ll rise with healing in My wing.  

O My only God! Now am I abandoned, left in the straits! The waters overwhelm and My body is going under with none to rescue. My God, My God! Why have you forsaken me?

Israel, My first love, though you did not know Me then, when pressed in primal mud I struggled to the finish. It was you I carried. They gave Me sour wine and I refused. Through crimson bloodied vision, your form like trees swaying, those I loved gripped one another with arms like branches reaching for Me though rejected by the crowd. John wept. Mary wailed and clung. Peter’s loud silence followed as I descended. There can be none to rescue. I will not summon angels.

I have come to do My Father’s will. With My last breath He’ll hear David’s evening prayer as I lay down and it is done! Receive My soul, My Father! Into Your hands do I commit a Son for sons!

No backward glance for how they left Me, an animal corpse, suspended between the two who still resisted. Death circled as they hung there, a growling lion hungry for his prey. I was free but was not finished. Down in the distance Sheol’s doors all locked and barred where the old ones waited in their chains. With eyes like doves’—expecting, watching at the gates where they were held. Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David and all their sons and daughters stood together on the brink.

When they saw Me from afar they knew that it was I. A shout like a shofar sounded out. Their voice rising shook those gates like reeds before the wind. From Moriah and the Red Sea, from the plain at Jericho, in the pact we cut before, many days ago. Joy pressed the dungeon doors. Hell could not separate us. Hope became sight and like a flood, a riot busting loose, and in a river we would all march out together. My captive ones, all My desire, their Strong Right Arm had come at last. Completely true to all My oath, come for all who died in faith and rested on the promise. Israel. My glory for whom I came.

Lift up your heads O you gates and lift up ancient bars! He comes! Our King of Glory in blood drenched battle dress! His covenant remembered. Many waters cannot quench love. Even floods can’t drown it! Love is strong as death and I am jealous. No grave can shut Me in.

It was not judgment’s nails I grasped then, not bars, but keys I held. I had Death by his thirsty throat. His would be the last gasp. I looked him in the eye and laughed as Hell’s bars broke. Its roiling magma shuddered, exploding, and it gave them up. They were free at last. If their loss were His gain what would their redemption be but life from the dead?

More powerful than up from Egypt. More glorious than out of Babylon. I carried them on eagle’s wings again. Their land purchased, the balance paid, a pageant of triumph our satisfying display of splendor. No more waiting. No more longing. No more crying. No more sighing! In My arms they flew, we kings together, we brothers soaring up and up, every one in ecstasy. When from eternity to eternity we rose, I heard His Voice. Preceding His embrace, the Spirit resounded and He breathed in Me again the breath of heaven.

Arise My Love, My perfect One and come away—winter is past. The rain is gone and the Spring time of our love has come at last. Awake!

And I awoke. The tomb glistened. My radiant garment clothed Me. The stone was rolled away and angels all attended. From here to eternity I was returning. Taking the seat of My inheritance. My original chair the place I was enthroned. And beside at My right hand Israel, My glory!


The Lamb was slain once, but that single event is our eternal confession. It propels us from grace to grace, from glory to glory. Our confession and surrender brings us an anointing. Glory comes into our lives. This mystery is affecting you, capturing you, and making you someone who is going to live forever in the company of Jesus Christ. The Lord is awakening us. We are coming to the epicenter of glory. At Calvary we are transfused, His blood for our life. From Calvary to Pentecost, which is the Father’s promise of the Spirit. He has come. He is in you. The shout of Calvary resounds on the wings of the Spirit. A voice cries out “Glory!” “Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered” (Ps. 68:1).

From our family to yours, may the blessings of Easter surround you this season. HE IS RISEN!



This Easter meditation series is excerpted from The Power of the Cross: Epicenter of Glory. Click here to order your copy online.

Mahesh and Bonnie Chavda, 4/7/2017