I don’t know what to call this. Maybe a poem or a write-up. But please read and share. God bless.
I went home to sleep that Friday night
So tired and weak from what had transpired
My wife and children welcomed me with open hands
And laid the table before me.
Waiting by the table to hear how it ended with the so called Son of God.
Just as I sat at dinner, it came back all over again
The cry and the chant of the crowd, crucify! crucify!!
I could hear my voice, it was louder than all other
Away with him! Crucify him!! He does not deserve to live!!!
How come my voice?? I am very sure I was just an onlooker
“I was not part of them” I said, startling my family.
I could not push it away, the cry of the mob
I covered my ears with pillows but it refused to go
My family shared my pain, they couldn’t help
My discomfort disturbed my partner
Who tried to no avail to be a comforter
Really there is no peace for the wicked.
The chant quieted down as I laid down to sleep
Almost immediately I heard drops like water leaking
I got up to check the faucets at home
But none was left opened
I wondered where the drops were coming from
As if it was reading my mind, I got an answer immediately
The drop mixed with the voices of women wailing for the good man
I can remember now, the drop was the blood of the crucified
How come I can hear the blood drop so loudly?
I need to pay my doctor a visit to fix it.
The wailing increased, I felt completely surrounded
My ears were ringing badly and I wanted to cut them off
Then I heard “you killed him, you have to die too”
I could sense them move angrily towards me
Almost instantly, my wife and children cried out, we are guilty!!
We killed a good man, the Son of God
We nailed him to the cross.
At that point, I felt like slapping them
Instead of helping me, they were making me feel more miserable.
Out of curiosity, I asked how? because I knew they were indoor all through
Then like a huge TV screen, I saw before me the dying man writhing in agony
Groaning as I punched the nails into his hand
But I can clearly remember I only watched
How come I am nailing him to a tree?
Although I was in the crowd, I did not join them
How will I do such a thing to a man that went about doing good.
Then I saw his loving eyes stare at me
In pain and agony he looked at me with pity
Seeing he has caught my attention, a smile broke across his face
His smile pierced through my hardened heart
I was beginning to melt, how will I shut it out?? I wondered
Still thinking, I saw him beckoned to me, come closer he whispered.
I staggered towards him with the hammer still in my hand
Gently he whispered before his eyelid shut
“Hmmmm, how I wish you know hi much I love you
My love for you brought me from my glorious abode to reach out to you
I love you and I forgive you”
Was I going crazy? With all I have done
Did I just hear him say he forgive me after all I have done?
What kind of man is this? “Who are you?” I asked him
I am your Yehôshûa, ur salvation
I am gâ’al, ur redeemer
U are supposed to be where I am but my grace reached down to u
I can give you life if you are willing
What else are u waiting for? he asked
Now is the time, today is the appointed day
I broke down before him and asked for mercy
All of a sudden I felt a peace and calm
As the dying man now my God was set free to live in my heart
This feeling I cannot describe because experience they say is the best teacher
You are the guilty one and can only free yourself from his death and experience the same peace when you ask him.
Hope you were blessed by it. Stay blessed