Meditation on the Death of Christ
I know not why you chose
this way
to show us your love,
to embrace a slave's death,
a death of public humilation,
torture and pain.
I know not why you chose
to carry the rough wood
that your hands knew so well
how to shape and form
into so many better things
than a tool of torture,
or why you let them
pierce you,
but this was your choice.
O Lord,
let me never forget
that you really walked those steps,
felt the blows,
the roughness of the wood,
the pain,
tasted the blood.
You were there,
and you did it for love,
abandoning all,
until you felt even abandoned by the Father,
nothing left
but our sins,
the pain,
and the darkness of death.
What greater love story ever
was composed upon this sad earth?
BTTT