I am the joy that Jesus endured the cross for.
I can't accept this. My mind rejects the notion. I reject myself, and I project this rejection onto Christ. Surely he rejects me too. Or at the very least tolerates me in spite of my stupidity.
I can deal with the pity of Christ towards me. I can understand the idea that God loves me because he has to. (God is love, right?) As if God is contractually obligated to love me. I can grasp the reluctant necessity of the cross. I struggle to understand His joyful embrace of a broken me. The God who delights in me, who rejoices over me with singing? The son of God who sees me standing on the other side of the cross, and moves towards me nonetheless?
It is easy for me to tell you that Jesus died for you. The notion that He died for me is harder to grasp. But now that he has been to the cross, the grave, and back again, I somehow expect Jesus to be moderately annoyed with me. This is why Paul prays for the church in Ephesians, that they will come to grasp 'how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.'
Zephaniah 3 17 The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”