The sadness overwhelms. Tears well. And I swallow down hard. Images swirl in my mind. Thrashing skin. Thorns entwined. Broken body. Nailed to a broken tree. The words “Father if you are willing, take this cup from me.”
He didn’t take the cup, instead Jesus drunk it down. He took it and swallowed down all the pain and suffering. Took the punishment. And breathed His last breath.
His Father watching close. Watching His Son beaten and bruised. Mocked. Nailed to that tree. I imagine hot tears poured from His eyes, burning as they fell. He felt the grief. I wonder if He thought for a moment to put an end to this. The suffering and just bring Him home. But He didn’t. Instead He turned away and let the ugly darkness be put to death once and for all. And in all His glory He overcame this world.
Jesus’ body lay in rest. His soul tormented. The punishment. My punishment. He suffered it.
The one so perfect and pure suffered, bled and died. Then lived in torment for me. Three days spent in hell. For me. This undeserving wretch. He did it out of His love for me.
And it is all glory.
For God so loves the world that He gave his only begotten Son,, that whosoever believeth in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
And on that third day… He rose again.