As I stand there looking at Him I wonder if He knows it is because of me He is there. Even if I close my eyes it would not shut out the sounds of the mob around me. I can almost feel the rough wood in my two hands as I swing down the hammer to drive the nails even deeper into His hands. Does He know? That it might as well be me taking the spear in my hands laughing as I thrust it into the flesh of His side.
-Date Unkoown-


No I may not be that person doing it but I might as well have placed His thorny crown on His head. He doesn't look evil. I imagine that His eyes shine with uncontained joy. He would stand tall yet be humble. He would care not for who you might seem like other people might.

In His presence you would find healing and you would learn much from Him. What a great teacher He must be. Although now you could not see it. No now His body is beaten and broken. Salty tears mix with blood to make watery red streaks down His face and His back is torn from the whips and beatings He received. Yet He does not even curse those who afflict Him but instead He calls out to the one He calls His Father to forgive them for they know not what they have done.

Jesus Christ is His name and I among with many other put Him on that cross where He now draws His last and final breath.

Written by Justine N.