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Standing on the brow of
Golgotha
at the foot of the old rugged cross,
Holding my every treasure
as firmly
as I possibly can in both my arms,
I see Jesus hanging, bleeding
there
from His thorn-torn brow and cheek,
His cat-clawed back and
shoulder,
His stake-stabbed wrists and hands,
His spear-pierced side bleeding
out,
His heavy-heaving chest and stiff-
straining legs and cold-quivering
feet.
Then from the top of the blood-
soaked crossbeam I hear
a breathless
"Forgive them, for they do not
know what they do." And
my heart ripped
from top to bottom as my world
crashed down around my feet,
and my
knees hit the ground as I could
not help but reach for the
stained space
at the foot of the cross between
His nailed feet and the
hole where the
sharp stauros was driven deep
into the hard heart of this
still dark earth.
Luke 23:34 |
