Roman soldiers stood spitting…
Right in my face no
less―
And yet I understood, this was
The beginning of
the test.
While laughing
loudly and mocking,
They tore my
clothes away;
Then harshly placed
a crown of thorns
Upon my head to
stay.
Carelessly, they
chained and beat me;
It seemed a contest
now…
Who could inflict
the greatest pain,
Take courage from
my brow.
Now tired and weak
they placed me
On the cross still
on the ground;
The mallet used to
drive the nails
Made a horribly
deafening sound.
Then struggling to
raise me,
They shoved the
towering tree
Into a hole deep in
the earth,
And they kept
mocking me!
“If thou art
Christ, the chosen God,
Thy power let us
view!”
But I prayed
“Father, forgive them
They know not what
they do.”
Then searching, I
found my mother,
Tears spilling down
her cheek.
I gave her to John
to care for;
No words of regret
did I speak.
Then humbly I spoke
“it is finished;”
I died on the cross
that day.
But knowing you
needed a Savior,
I knew there was no
other way.
“I love you,” He
quietly told me;
Then calling me by
name
He held out His
hands to show me…
Now I’ll never be
the same.
