Friday, March 25, 2016

When I stare at the Cross

crossbeam tearing wounded flesh
hammer striking iron
shrieks of unfathomable pain
drops of redemption blood
wincing with each agonizing breath
trembling limbs stretched
startled eyes searching the heavens
haunting thoughts of abandonment and betrayal
uncontrollable sobs from a grieving mother
jeers from a lost crowd
repentant cries from a thief
merciful eyes forgiving humanity 
pierced for our rebellion
crushed for our sins 
 man of sorrows 
acquainted with deepest grief

He was beaten so we could be whole.
He was whipped so we could be healed.
Isaiah 53:4-5

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree,
so that we might die to sin and live for righteousness;
by his wounds you have been healed. I Peter 2:24

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