What overwhelms the heart is realizing that Yeshua actually did it, the choice that saved us. He didn’t stand at the edge of the moment and let something unavoidable sweep Him along. He stepped into it. He accepted what He did not have to accept. And every time I think about that, I feel the weight of how unstoppable the Father’s plan truly is, and yet how deeply willing the Son actually was.
The plan had been set long before Bethlehem. The Torah had shown the pattern; the prophets had spoken it; the psalms had wrapped it in poetry. In Psalm 40:7–8 the Hebrew, בִּמְגִלַּת־סֵפֶר כָּתוּב עָלָי, meaning it is written about Me in the scroll of the book. Yeshua knew that every word, every shadow, every sacrifice pointed forward to Him. He walked with the understanding that nothing the Father declares can ever be stopped. Isaiah 46:10 reminds us that His purpose stands, and His pleasure is done. So yes, in that sense, the script was unstoppable. It always is.
Yet when Yeshua stood in Gethsemane, He didn’t pray like someone trapped inside a story that had no room for choice. In Mark 14:36 He said “Abba, Father, all things are possible for You; take this cup from Me; yet not what I will, but what You will.” The Aramaic word for will, רְעוּתָא (re’uta), feels like a bending of the heart. Not force, but surrender. Not compulsion, but unity. He wasn’t struggling against the Father; He was laying His own humanity down so the plan could be fulfilled through obedience rather than coercion.
There’s something breathtaking about that. The Father’s plan could not fail, and yet Yeshua’s choice still mattered. It’s the kind of paradox that only heaven can hold. From one side, the purpose was fixed. From the other side, Yeshua walked into it freely. The Greek in John 10:18 captures it perfectly when He says ἐγὼ τίθημι αὐτὴν ἀπ’ ἐμαυτοῦ, meaning I lay My life down of My own self. That word τίθημι (tithēmi) is deliberate. It means placing something down knowingly, not letting something fall from your hands.
The nails themselves are heavy with meaning. They were instruments of execution, tools of shame, yet through Yeshua they became instruments of redemption. In His hands, wood and iron, human cruelty and Roman authority, all converged to bring forth the fulfillment of prophecy. He actually allowed everything to unfold. He actually faced the soldiers, the cords, the wood, the thorns, the mocking, the blows, and finally the iron that tore into Him. None of it was symbolic. None of it was softened. None of it was made easier because He is divine. The pain was real, the nerves were real, the blood was real. And inside all of that agony was love. That’s how deadly sin is, how black the human heart is.
Hebrew even shows that love and sacrifice are tied together. The word אהב (ahav, love) carries the idea of giving out of the deepest place of the heart. The word for sacrifice, זֶבַח (zevach), carries the idea of drawing near. He wasn’t choosing pain. He was choosing closeness. He was choosing to bring humanity back to the Father in the only way it could be done. That drawing near was the essence of obedience, the choice of intimacy over avoidance, love over self-preservation.
If He had said “no,” heaven would have received Him. Angels would have honored Him. And no one could have accused Him of doing wrong. But the world would have remained lost. Every prophecy would have unraveled. The pierced One of Zechariah 12:10, the Lamb of Exodus 12, the suffering servant of Isaiah 53, the promised Seed of Genesis 3:15, all of it would have remained unfinished, like a masterpiece with the final stroke missing.
The Father’s plan was unstoppable, and yet it still waited for the Son’s willing yes. That is the mystery that humbles the heart. Salvation came through sovereignty joined with obedience. Power joined with humility. Certainty joined with choice. And when the nails were lifted, Yeshua did not resist. In Hebrews 12:2, the Greek says He endured ἀντὶ τῆς προκειμένης αὐτῷ χαρᾶς, for the joy set before Him. Not happiness. Not relief. Joy in completing the purpose. Joy in bringing us home.
Consider the paradox further. He wasn’t following an unstoppable script in the sense of being coerced or trapped. He was fulfilling love. He was entering suffering deliberately. He could have called on twelve legions of angels, as Matthew 26:53 tells us, and yet He did not. The path to the cross was voluntary, chosen, and profoundly relational. Every heartbeat, every breath, every groan along that way was an act of intimate obedience.
Even the physical reality of the nails speaks to the depth of His choice. Each strike, each hammer, each nail tore flesh, yet His mind and heart were locked on the Father’s will. The Greek in Luke 22:42 uses γενηθήτω (genēthētō, “let it be done”), a verb of deliberate action, surrender, and completion. Yeshua’s human nature recoiled at the pain, and yet His divine will aligned perfectly with the Father’s, producing the only moment in history where suffering became redemption.
That is why the cross stands alone. Because He actually did what no one else could do. He accepted what could not be forced. He unified His will with the Father’s will in a way that makes the entire plan blaze with meaning. He stood inside an unstoppable purpose with a willing heart, and that willing heart is what carried the world’s redemption.
And consider this: each of us, touched by that choice, is invited into the echo of it. Our obedience will never create redemption, but our yes mirrors His. Our willingness can reflect the love that moved Him to the nails. The Father’s plan is unstoppable, yes, but like Yeshua, we are called to respond, we are compelled, and invited, to live in alignment with His will. He’s the only one that could fill that hole in our hearts.
It will never stop amazing me that He could have stepped back, but instead He stepped forward. And that one choice saved us.
Rule #1 God saved the whole world through Yeshua
Rule #2 Man cannot change rule #1.
I BELIEVE IN YESHUA HAMASHIACH, AND AIN’T THING ONE ANYONE CAN DO OR SAY TO CHANGE MY MIND.
The image at the top of the page, I did on scratchboard. It was from a vision I had while sitting with my (at that time) boyfriend in my backyard.
Yeshua asked me, ‘I did this for you. Now, what are YOU going to do about it?”