Had it almost been a year since his father, Yoseph, died? Fifteen-year-old Yeshua grimaced as He slowly made his way through the temple yard, brown eyes peering through the various pens. This had always been his father’s job—Yeshua could never bring Himself to select a lamb for His family.
Maybe because it hit too close to home...or maybe it was because on the darkest of nights, He would awaken feeling hard metal piercing His skin.
Yeshua loved His people...loved all people, even though He instinctively feared the Romans. He knew that the blood sacrifice was required to begin to rebuild the bridge of fellowship with Abba. Yeshua knew that the price. He was prepared for it...unlike these lambs.
They were only a year old, still innocents in the world, and yet destined to be sacrificed. He blinked several times, “Oh, Abba...” He breathed, blinking several times, knowing the terrible cost that He was going to pay for the ultimate repairing the shattered bridge.
He entered a pen and knelt, carefully examining a lamb.
“From one of the finest herds of Bethlehem,” the shepherd stated, watching Yeshua carefully. “I helped his mother give birth last spring.”
Yeshua found Himself nodding as He carefully examined the lamb. “Not a sign of a blemish on it.” His voice cracked and awkwardly, He cleared his throat. “How much is it?”
The shepherd raised his eyebrow as he named the price. Yeshua frowned. The price seemed too low for a Passover lamb.
“A lamb to build a bridge for your mother, brothers, sisters, Yeshua son of Yoseph.” Yeshua felt His frown shift into a look of confusion as He peered up at the shepherd as the elder man continued his voice dropping into a whisper. “I was there that night, fifteen springs ago. I saw the angels announce Your birth.” There was a pause; then a moment of understanding passed between the two men. Then shepherd’s voice rose back to a normal volume. “And I will not accept a shekel more.”
Yeshua found Himself nodding as He fished out the coinage from His pouch. The first official transaction of His manhood completed. Gently, He scooped up the lamb, stroking its head tenderly.
With careful steps, He carried the lamb out of the temple, towards where His family waited. Mother smiled; her brown eyes radiated with pride of her Son. Did she know how hard it was for Him? To choose a sacrifice for the family when He was supposed to become the ultimate bridge for everyone?
“Thank you, little lamb,” Yeshua whispered, lifting its small head to His face, “thank you for being a bridge for My family until My time has come.”
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