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The Hero’s Saviour

Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this; while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.   Romans:7-8

Power, might, unshakeable, infinite wisdom and answers for every possible question. Our heroes, people who have in the face of great physical, socio-political or spiritual adversity come out victorious. People who have defended us and in their every day life cut a path for us and shone as beacons of hope and encouragement. Women and men who have inspired us to do great things ourselves and be courageous in our own adversities.

These people both believers and unbelievers have left indelible marks on international, national and individual histories. Their names are etched on our streets and by ways of our minds. Their statues stand proud and tall on our street corners and as idols in our hearts. Shrines we run to for courage and hope.
100% of my and your heroes will die or have died, and in the face of this reality of their humanity they need a saviour. You see despite the great work that God used them to do on earth for the one or the many, they still remain human just as much as us, and in need of the one who laid down His life and rose again.

Christ died on the cross not just for a select few, or for a small set of values. Nor was His death simply to cover a particular political message. He died that everyone from every tribe and tongue may be reconciled to the father. He fought the ultimate battle for us and through His Holy Spirit has availed all we need for everyday life. His hope is not fleeting, His wisdom does not fall short nor is it for only a certain period in history. Indeed, the whole of history is His story, as at every moment in time He has been working out His plan of salvation and using every circumstance to draw His own to Him.
When He freely gave us the gift of salvation there was nothing in us that was deserving of such a great gift. When He died on the cross His eyes were filled with love for all. His compassion for our lost souls was what kept Him on that cross. His “own,” were you and me, not colour, not tribe not party not country.

And so, I don’t salute Him, for that would be a mockery to the flawless lamb who was slain for my eternal disease. He is not my hero, heroes die. He is my saviour, so I lay down my life that He may do with it as He pleases.

May we begin to see the heroes at the corners of our streets and in the shrines of our hearts in light of the saviour whom they need too. In the light of His glory, the shiniest bronze and silver, not only tarnishes but morphs into the most grotesque of images, for even our good deeds are as filthy rags before Him. But when our eyes are lifted from these earthly things and look into His heart of love, He takes our surrendered hearts and makes all things beautiful in His time.

Who looks up to you as a hero my sister? Point them to Christ so that when they are reminded of the part you played in their lives, it will always be in light of you being a tool in time that God used for His work in their lives. And so that one day you can both rejoice in the presence of your master, as you both hear, “well done my girls, welcome home.”

 

By: Jane Osoro

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