Pieces of a Plate

While doing some work near the kitchen sink, I heard a plate falling. Having fairly fast reflexes, I reached out and caught it without even looking. Had I looked I would have know it was not a plate... but PIECES of a plate.
I cut may hand up pretty good. Had to pull glass out of it and was wrapped up in bandages for the better part of a week. It also hurt a bit. Not a lot, but a fair amount. And there was a lot of blood. A lot.
While thinking about the state of my hand one day and how much that whole thing sucked... it hit me.
Jesus was whipped and pierced.
If my hand had caused me so much grief, imagine what Jesus would have gone through?
Jesus would have been beaten with a cat-of-nine-tails. A whip with pieces of glass in it.
Even thinking about it makes me sick. And he did that all for me. It's a sobering thought. One I thought I had grasped, especially after seeing The Passion of the Christ. I was wrong.
I know it seems like a loose analogy. My hand barely felt what Jesus would have. But still! That really is love. That he would lay down his life, in such a horrid way, for us. People that could have cared less about God or a relationship.
I never would have thought a shard of plate would boost my faith, but I guess that's how God works. He takes the bad and makes it good.