My friend Kenny
and his family had just
returned from Disney
World. "I saw a
sight I'll never
forget," he said.
"I want you to know
about it."
He and his family were
inside Cinderella's
castle. It was
packed with kids and
parents. Suddenly
all the children rushed
to one side. Had
it been a boat, the
castle would have tipped
over. Cinderella
had entered. Cinderella.
The pristine princess.
Kenny said she was
perfectly typecast.
A gorgeous young girl
with each hair in place,
flawless skin, and a
beaming smile. She
stood waist-deep in a
garden of kids, each
wanting to touch and be
touched.
For some reason Kenny
turned and looked toward
the other side of the
castle. It was now
vacant except for a boy
maybe seven or eight
years old. His age
was hard to determine
because of the
disfigurement of his
body. Dwarfed in
height, face deformed,
he stood watching
quietly and wistfully,
holding the hand of an
older brother.
Don't you know what he
wanted? He wanted
to be with the children.
He longed to be in the
middle of the kids
reaching for Cinderella,
calling her name.
But can't you feel his
fear, fear of yet
another rejection?
Fear of being taunted
again, mocked again?
Don't you wish
Cinderella would go to
him? Guess what?
She did! She
noticed the little boy.
She immediately began
walking in his
direction.
Politely but firmly
inching through the
crowd of children, she
finally broke free.
She walked quickly
across the floor, knelt
at eye level with the
stunned little boy, and
placed a kiss on his
face.
"I thought you would
appreciate the story,"
Kenny told me. I
did. It reminded
me of the one you and I
have been studying.
The names are different,
but isn't the story
almost the same?
Rather than a princess
of Disney, we've been
considering the Prince
of Peace. Rather
than a boy in a castle,
we've looked at a thief
on a cross. In
both cases a gift was
given. In both
cases love was shared.
In both cases the lovely
one performed a gesture
beyond words.
But Jesus did more than
Cinderella. Oh, so
much more.
Cinderella gave only a
kiss. When she
stood to leave, she took
her beauty with her.
The boy was still
deformed. What if
Cinderella had done what
Jesus did? What if
she'd assumed his state?
What if she had somehow
given him her beauty and
taken on his
disfigurement?
That's what Jesus did.
"He took our suffering
on him and felt our pain
for us. He was
wounded for the wrong we
did; he was crushed for
the evil we did.
The punishment, which
made us well, was given
to him, and we are
healed because of his
wounds" (Isa. 53:4-5).
Make no mistake: Jesus
gave more than a
kiss--he gave his
beauty. He paid
more than a visit--he
paid for our mistakes.
He took more than a
minute--he took away our
sin.
by Max Lucado
http://www.maxlucado.com