Bruised for You

‘But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed.’

Isaiah 53:5

As a firstborn, I’m used to taking responsibility for everything my siblings do. If my younger sister sneaks out to play with the neighbors when she’s not supposed to, and my mom finds out? I’m the one getting punished. If my other sister takes something from Mom’s room—something she had no business touching—and I was home but didn’t notice or even know? Still my fault. These kids are out here doing reckless things—because, well, kids do reckless things—but I’m the one held accountable for stuff I had no part in.

It wasn’t funny. Not at all. But that’s how my mom raised me. And I get it—she was a working-class mom, I was home, so in her mind, I should’ve been watching them. Back then, it was also the norm: the firstborn carried the family’s weight. So that’s how I grew up—taking blame, bearing punishment for crimes I didn’t commit.

Ignorant But Guilty

And let me tell you, nothing is more frustrating or painful than that. The person who did the crime should do the time, right? But what if they can’t? What if they’re too young, too naive, to even understand it was a crime?

Like my little brother—he’d bolt out of the house like he was training for the Olympics. I’d chase him everywhere because he had no clue how dangerous it was. Running to the balcony? He could’ve fallen down the stairs, hurt himself or, worse, died. Taking food from neighbors? We live in Africa—that’s how kids get poisoned or kidnapped. But he didn’t know. He was just living, having fun. How could he pay for what he didn’t understand?

Jesus The Substitute

But here’s the thing: some of us did know. We committed real crimes—sin upon sin—and Jesus did the time for us. The Bible says He was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities. We strayed from God’s path, ignored His principles, yet Jesus paid the price. They beat Him. Pressed thorns into His scalp. Spat on Him. Strapped a splintered cross to His shredded back—raw from the lashings, flesh clinging to wood. He carried our shame, our sin, while we deserved the punishment. He took it. For you.

So why let shame, guilt, or fear chain you now? The enemy’s lies have no power—Jesus already served your sentence. Step into the freedom He bought. Own the grace He bled for.

Prayer

Take a second. Thank Him. “Jesus, I thank You for bearing what I couldn’t. If I had to pay for my own sins, I’d be crushed. But You took my place—my shame, my punishment. Thank You.”

Amen.