Read: John 12:1-17
As a father, I read this passage with a sharpened awareness of what it means to give without counting cost. Mary pours out expensive ointment on Jesus’ feet - an act that looks impractical, even irresponsible, to those watching. Judas, the traitor, measures the moment in coins. Jesus measures it in love.
Lent asks me to confront how often I think like Judas rather than Mary. As a father, I am tempted to calculate everything-time, money, energy. Asking what is efficient or sensible. Yet my children don’t need efficiency from me; they need presence, guidance. They need love that is poured out, not rationed.
Mary’s act prepares Jesus for burial, even if she does not fully comprehend it. That resonates profoundly. So much of fatherhood is about planting seeds we may never see fully grown. Prayers whispered over sleeping children, lessons taught through quiet consistency, sacrifices made without fanfare.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem, the crowd waves palm branches, celebrating a king they only partly understood. I recognize myself there also: committed to honoring Christ not only in moments of joy, but in obedience that remains steady especially when faith demands sacrifice. Lent slows me down and reminds me that true discipleship resembles kneeling rather than cheering.
This season calls me, as a father, to model a faith that gives extravagantly, loves without fail, and trusts that nothing poured out for Christ, or for those entrusted to me, is ever wasted.
Franklin Cole
As a father, I read this passage with a sharpened awareness of what it means to give without counting cost. Mary pours out expensive ointment on Jesus’ feet - an act that looks impractical, even irresponsible, to those watching. Judas, the traitor, measures the moment in coins. Jesus measures it in love.
Lent asks me to confront how often I think like Judas rather than Mary. As a father, I am tempted to calculate everything-time, money, energy. Asking what is efficient or sensible. Yet my children don’t need efficiency from me; they need presence, guidance. They need love that is poured out, not rationed.
Mary’s act prepares Jesus for burial, even if she does not fully comprehend it. That resonates profoundly. So much of fatherhood is about planting seeds we may never see fully grown. Prayers whispered over sleeping children, lessons taught through quiet consistency, sacrifices made without fanfare.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem, the crowd waves palm branches, celebrating a king they only partly understood. I recognize myself there also: committed to honoring Christ not only in moments of joy, but in obedience that remains steady especially when faith demands sacrifice. Lent slows me down and reminds me that true discipleship resembles kneeling rather than cheering.
This season calls me, as a father, to model a faith that gives extravagantly, loves without fail, and trusts that nothing poured out for Christ, or for those entrusted to me, is ever wasted.
Franklin Cole
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