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The strong sinews of his muscles were strained, as He used the little strength He had left to raise His shoulders, ceasing the blazing pain that ran through his body but for a moment. But it was never long enough. His stomach churned at the thought of satisfying his flesh, but that desired had perished on the long agonizing road. Just after the kind stranger helped Him carry the cross; just for a little while. His tongue clung dryly to the roof of his mouth, attempting to swallow but instead breathing in the dry sandy air that surrounded him. Hovering in the dark, as the skies gave way to briny water that hailed from the sky, He could hear the women crying bitterly. The sweat from His wet hair mixed with the salty rain and trickled like tributaries down His filthy back, then down his legs. With each contact, the sting would return and his steeled himself again the pain once again. The open wounds had swollen as they followed the path around his chest to the open pierced side. The water and blood spilled on the hill. An interloped moped up the blood with a tarnished white rag, hid it on this body, and hurried back into the crowds before he was detected. For no one wanted to be associated with this shell of a man who once rose the dead and made lame men free from their crutches. No, not this Man.
The mockers urged Him to save Himself and others walked by without empathy. The thought of His Father, royal and resplendent on His throne made him shiver with hope. Hope that this would be enough to satisfy His horrifying wrath. His beaten and deprived body limp with fatigue as the earth and the heavens shook and parts of the earth opened and shifted beneath the feet of the solders standing guard. They glanced at the man hanging in the center of the criminals, with thoughts of leaving their post to take cover. But their master was cruel and they did not want to end up like the stranger with the crown of thorns on His head. The dying man’s eyes were so covered with blood they could not tell whether He saw them watching or slept. The crowds scurried away in fear as they heard the rumble of mountains break apart and fall like crumbs into the angry oceans. The roar of the winds howled like hungry hounds searching for prey. The rage of an indignant God who could not be calmed or set to peace; except for the blood.
Its roars gave rise of tempests to the seas as winds rose to the heights of clouds and fell again cradle as the storm rocked rumbled to the ocean’s depth. This storm no man could survive. His hot, white displeasure caused the Sun to turn black, and all living things on the earth faltered at the loss of their source of life. The scapegoat for which all human sin must be atoned. As He turned His back to the cross, a tear slid down His face; one the Son would never see. Holiness and sin could never dwell in the same place. It was time for the veil to come down. Though his pain was hidden in his anger, it pleased the Father to bruise him.
The Lamb gasped and saw in his mind an image of an innocent little girl running playfully through the field of purple flowers with her friends. She was faster than her peers, to the point that she leisurely stopped, every so often to gather the most lovely purple flowers. She could not recall their names, but she knew the man with the Soul Eyes would tell her. He knew everything and He seemed to like it when she came to visit. ‘ I shall make a wreath,’ she thought to herself with a smile, then danced around in glee at the through of showing her new friend. As she paused, the mouth of the slithering serpent barely missed delving into her innocent youthful leg.
He couldn’t let this happen. He could not allow the vile, cursed creature that slivered like leather-twisted sin cross the ground and pierce her soul and her flesh, sending her plummeting to the hot, dank, molten place where there is no God. With thick coils of molten blackness aglow, demons screeched and spewed in hideous symphony, anxiously to share their misery with the ones the I AM loved so dearly. They hissed in glee as the last of their plans fell into place. Soon His Favorite would be among them and their master would be so very pleased.
The Son used the precious air in His lungs to beg the Great Jevovah to forgive, as they did not know what they had done. With herculean effort, in that ninth hour, every fiber of his stretched body exploded with the words from his mouth ‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’ Yet after sour grapes and hyssop, he decided his mission was then complete.
With one last cry, he pronounced ‘It is finished’ and chose to give up the ghost.
Across the colorful pond of water, He could see her again. This time with her brow wrinkled in concentration as she wove the beautiful purple flowers around the pliant branches of gold. Having felt his nearness, she looked up and saw Soul Eyes! She was delighted to see him of course, and just in time to show Him her gift. He could see the love in her eyes reflected in His own. She asked Him, quite concerned, about the marks on his hands and his feet. He coyly remarked ‘It is the Father’s will that all His children be just as you. Come now, let us see what the Father thinks of your extraordinary gift.’ Though she did not truly understand his response, they began to walk together towards the highest hill, so resplendent in iridescent colors of light, there was no need for the Sun. They walked hand in hand through the Kingdom, the little girl cautious not to injure His hands any more.
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