Have you ever thought about the insane power there is behind the number three?
The maker of the universe is made up of three parts.
Thousands of Jewish lives were saved from death because Queen Esther courageously went to the king begged for their lives on the third day.
On the third day, God rescued Isaac from death by providing a substitute sacrifice. While Young Isaac and his father traveled for three days towards Mount Moriah; he was oblivious to the fact that God had just asked his father to kill him as evidenced by his recurrent question “Dad, where is the lamb we will sacrifice when we get to the top”? When they arrived, Abraham, who was likely in a pile of tears, built an altar, tied up Isaac, drew his knife, and then God said “No, don’t kill him”. He praised Abraham for passing this bizarre test, telling him he just needed to know if he’d be willing to give up his only son as a sacrifice. Sounds familiar. A ram appeared in the bushes, which was not only God’s provision of a sacrifice that day, but also a foreshadow of the ultimate sacrifice he would provide on a third day.
The most poignant power of three happened on a Sunday.
“At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb…they found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb…But once inside, they couldn’t find the body of the Master Jesus…Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men…stood there…and said “Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up.” Luke 24:1-7 (The Message)
God saved humanity with the sacrifice He provided; with the sacrifice He made. The pinnacle of power was on display when God raised His Son, Jesus, on day three.
There seems to be an exotic power that comes in threes.
Athletes have talked about a phenomenon that comes in twos. When running a marathon and almost to the point of exhaustion, they suddenly find the strength to press on with less exertion. It’s called the second wind. The body finally finds the right balance of oxygen to counteract the buildup of lactic acid in the muscles.
I personally have not experienced this, because the last time I ran a considerable length I was 19 years old and probably stopped for ice cream before this phenomenon kicked in. However, if life is like a marathon, a common analogy which I think is a decent one; I have experienced a second-wind-sort-of-thing after I’ve gutted it out though slumps and then experienced a surprise oxygenation that morphed the mundane into new purpose.
Those of us who have encountered this type of second wind phenomenon may find that this experience helps us persevere through the next downturn – we know as our feet hit the pavement step by step we are getting closer to hitting our stride, at which point things will seem much easier and our minds will be freed to focus on things other than the pain of running.
This was a source of motivation for me until my life starting bringing me the really tough stuff.
Pursuing the carrot of the second wind no longer proved to be enough to sustain me. The drive to reach the second wind was overshadowed by chronic pain and other struggles common to all of us.
You see, the key to reaching the second wind is continuing to run. What happens when we don’t have the will to keep running anymore? What happens when we have lost heart so much that we can’t even see the track through the fog of disillusionment? How do we combat pure exhaustion as we lay lifeless on the track, finding only enough strength to roll over to the edge so that others can run by?
We need a power that we don’t have to strive for. We need one that meets us where we are – on the side of the track. A power that shocks dead, lifeless hearts so they beat again. A power that picks us up and shoulders us through grief, pain, disappointment, loneliness and disbelief. A power that comes in twos isn’t enough. We need one that comes in threes. We need the power of the third day. A Third Wind. A resurrection power that raises us out of bed in the morning when we’d rather hide our aches and pains under the covers all day. One that picks us off the side of the track and carries us awhile so we can feel the thrice-saturated breeze, breathe it in, and fill our lungs with the aroma of Easter lilies, which reminds us that the Third Wind is what’s been sustaining us all along.—alg
The maker of the universe is made up of three parts.
Thousands of Jewish lives were saved from death because Queen Esther courageously went to the king begged for their lives on the third day.
On the third day, God rescued Isaac from death by providing a substitute sacrifice. While Young Isaac and his father traveled for three days towards Mount Moriah; he was oblivious to the fact that God had just asked his father to kill him as evidenced by his recurrent question “Dad, where is the lamb we will sacrifice when we get to the top”? When they arrived, Abraham, who was likely in a pile of tears, built an altar, tied up Isaac, drew his knife, and then God said “No, don’t kill him”. He praised Abraham for passing this bizarre test, telling him he just needed to know if he’d be willing to give up his only son as a sacrifice. Sounds familiar. A ram appeared in the bushes, which was not only God’s provision of a sacrifice that day, but also a foreshadow of the ultimate sacrifice he would provide on a third day.
The most poignant power of three happened on a Sunday.
“At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb…they found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb…But once inside, they couldn’t find the body of the Master Jesus…Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men…stood there…and said “Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up.” Luke 24:1-7 (The Message)
God saved humanity with the sacrifice He provided; with the sacrifice He made. The pinnacle of power was on display when God raised His Son, Jesus, on day three.
There seems to be an exotic power that comes in threes.
Athletes have talked about a phenomenon that comes in twos. When running a marathon and almost to the point of exhaustion, they suddenly find the strength to press on with less exertion. It’s called the second wind. The body finally finds the right balance of oxygen to counteract the buildup of lactic acid in the muscles.
I personally have not experienced this, because the last time I ran a considerable length I was 19 years old and probably stopped for ice cream before this phenomenon kicked in. However, if life is like a marathon, a common analogy which I think is a decent one; I have experienced a second-wind-sort-of-thing after I’ve gutted it out though slumps and then experienced a surprise oxygenation that morphed the mundane into new purpose.
Those of us who have encountered this type of second wind phenomenon may find that this experience helps us persevere through the next downturn – we know as our feet hit the pavement step by step we are getting closer to hitting our stride, at which point things will seem much easier and our minds will be freed to focus on things other than the pain of running.
This was a source of motivation for me until my life starting bringing me the really tough stuff.
Pursuing the carrot of the second wind no longer proved to be enough to sustain me. The drive to reach the second wind was overshadowed by chronic pain and other struggles common to all of us.
You see, the key to reaching the second wind is continuing to run. What happens when we don’t have the will to keep running anymore? What happens when we have lost heart so much that we can’t even see the track through the fog of disillusionment? How do we combat pure exhaustion as we lay lifeless on the track, finding only enough strength to roll over to the edge so that others can run by?
We need a power that we don’t have to strive for. We need one that meets us where we are – on the side of the track. A power that shocks dead, lifeless hearts so they beat again. A power that picks us up and shoulders us through grief, pain, disappointment, loneliness and disbelief. A power that comes in twos isn’t enough. We need one that comes in threes. We need the power of the third day. A Third Wind. A resurrection power that raises us out of bed in the morning when we’d rather hide our aches and pains under the covers all day. One that picks us off the side of the track and carries us awhile so we can feel the thrice-saturated breeze, breathe it in, and fill our lungs with the aroma of Easter lilies, which reminds us that the Third Wind is what’s been sustaining us all along.—alg
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