TITLE: My Jesus By Lynette Carpenter 03/22/06 |
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My Jesus!
I read about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane
So alone…
He walks down a path…
Watches a squirrel dart up a tree,
A butterfly lands on His fingertips.
He takes a deep breath, and gazes at the beauty around Him.
…Such a beautiful scene.
But what is in His heart?
Oh, if only life could go on…
…so peaceful …so simple.
…As He comes to a fallen log He sits down.
His shoulders become stooped
And He bows His head.
Tears flow down His face,
His body begins to shake as sobs engulf His being.
He knows what lies ahead.
Pain… loneliness… rejection… mocking
Torture … death…
He looks up…
His cheeks shine from the wetness of His tears.
Another one trickles down His face
And falls to the ground.
He speaks…
“Oh, Father, you know what lies ahead.
I ask, that if it is possible,
Let this cup pass from me.
But do Your will, Father,
…not Mine.”
A peace and calm crosses His face.
He will return to His friends
And ask them to keep praying with Him.
He rises…
Stepping across the stream that trickles by,
He continues around the bend,
But the pain returns to His eyes,
There before Him,
Lie His friends… sleeping.
They look so peaceful…
So carefree…
Didn’t they know He needed them?
Couldn’t they help Him through this painful time?
He turns away and walks slowly
Back to His little haven.
…Again, with tears streaming down His face
He pleads with His Father
To save Him from the hurt.
…But again…
“Not, Mine, but Thy will be done.”
Then in the distance He hears them,
The ones coming to take Him away…
He rises…
His time had come.
As I try to imagine all that my Saviour faced
Two thousand years ago,
I want to become angry at the ones who slept…
But I know, I’ve slept, too.
I’m disgusted with the one who sold Him…
But I’ve sold Him, too.
I want to lash out at the ones who mocked Him,
But… I’ve mocked Him, too.
I wonder how Peter could deny Him.
But I know, I have denied Him, too.
My heart cries,
“How could you spit upon His face?”
But then I know…
That through my sin…
I’ve spit upon His face.
“How could they press the thorns into His brow?” I ask.
But then I know,
Each time I turn my back on Him,
He still feels the pain.
But He did it…
For me…
He had fears…
He was alone…
He was tempted…
He was rejected…
He was betrayed…
He was hurt…
So we could know whenever we are
Afraid
Alone
Tempted
Rejected
Betrayed
Or hurting…
That He has been there.
And He came through victorious
So that He could offer us comfort!
Hope!
Life!
Victory!
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