We asked a myriad of voices to engage the crucifixion as if they were one of the characters present and write from that perspective. We gathered last week for an amazing collective of perspectives that ranged from a diverse, colorful eclectic group of people gazing at the cross. We will post each character and their angle as we approach Easter. Enjoy
My sweet, Jesus. I love you with everything I am. My unwavering faith tells me you are Lord, yet my heart and eyes see my son. The baby that I held in my arms, nurtured, loved, fed, played with, kept safe and watched grow into a beautiful man. I thank you, for the unique privilege of being the means by which MY Savior, would come into this world. My humanness is fighting with what I know to be the Truth, for I love you as no one else could.
I knew this day would come, but I cannot bear the magnitude of suffering you will endure. Is it not enough that you have been betrayed and deserted by those that call you friend? I cannot bear that sound, the sound of the whips and laughter at the same time. Do they not see that they are shredding your perfect flesh? I am trying not to count how many times the whip hits your back, but with every single strike I pray it is the last. Oh my precious Jesus, why must they use a flagrum? My heart cannot take it. I want to scream, I want to run to you and stop them, but I know I cannot.
I love you, I love you so much. As if the beating is not enough, a crown of thorns? I want to hold you in my arms and kiss your sweet face and tell you how much I love you. I am here, I am with you. My heart is being ripped apart, it is too much to bear! To watch you carry your own cross after enduring so much already and yet, my Jesus there is more. The hammer piercing nails through the hands that I held, washed, kissed and your feet that have carried you into my loving arms. That heart wrenching sound is piercing in my ears, one I will never forget.
As I stand at the foot of this cross, my mind wanders back in time, back to that first encounter with the angel. It was then I was told of the coming of your birth, how you would be conceived by the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit. I remember the months that followed as you grew within, making yourself known with every little movement or kick inside of me. My love for you has grown more with every passing day, I couldn’t possibly love you anymore. You were such a precious boy growing up and loved following after your father in his carpentry shop. You only gave us a scare once, the time you got lost in Jerusalem. But you weren’t lost at all, were you.
God, how long will he have to endure this suffering? As I look into your eyes with blood shed tears I hear the soldiers dividing your clothes among them. I will not leave you, “God may it be soon that His suffering will end.” I love you, my precious Jesus. It is finished. A sword has pierced through my very soul.