"Woman, behold thy Son.."
The screams of pain poured out from his heart, yet never flowed over his lips to be heard by those standing gathered on the hill. His strength near spent in the passed day of trial, and the beating he received by nameless guards, his only escape; as he drifted for moments to the past.
While learning the trade of his earthly father at thirteen, a sliver from a board had cut into his lower arm. He had cried out then, more from his own frustration. The wood could not be removed easily, even as with the beam now -- the long nails driven deep into his flesh.
"Earthly pains," Joseph had said back then, trying to make light of the child’s suffering. "We all struggle daily, and this is but a splinter. It could be a lot worse one day."
That day had come, even as he knew it would. Slowly he was raised into the air, the weight of his body sending waves of agony from the spikes holding his hands bound to the rough wood of the Roman cross. As the long upright pole dropped into place, jarring him more, he took quick rapid breaths and tried to focus his eyes on the people below him. His thoughts melting to another crowd.
He had gathered his disciples together on a hill looking across a valley towards the city. As he looked out at the people there, he started to teach them. He spoke of the blessings on those who seek the will of God the Father, and how they would also be condemned by the world for doing so.
"Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake." *
How he longed for those days, but more for the end day and the true blessing of his Father. As he looked, he beheld his mother weeping in the crowd. How he wished to comfort her for all the hardship of life. To tell her openly how his trial was for her as well as for all people. There also was his disciple; if ever there was one close as his child, it would be the youth.
"Woman," he spoke down to them, "behold thy son." And to the youth he added, "Behold thy mother." *
In his weakness his thirst grew overbearing, as he thought to a night not long before, when he had gathered with his followers for the Passover feast, and the last drink to pass his lips. . .
"Drink ye all of it; For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins." *
He called out to the guards and they took a sponge dipped in wine vinegar and raised it to him on a slim pole of hyssop. As the bitterness touched his lips, like the sin of the world upon his burdened soul, he spoke softly. "It is finished." *
* (Scripture references listed in order..) Mat. 5:11, John 19:26-27, Mat 26:27-28, John 19:29-30... Scripture taken in and out of context from Ellis Maxima Bible Library Ver 6.0, Copyright- 1988-2001 by Ellis enterprises, Inc.
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