good day

The wounds on his hands bled slowly. Pressure from the weight of his body held back the flow. If there had been no other sounds that afternoon, it probably would have sounded like the slow, steady drip off the eaves of a mountain cabin on a damp, foggy night.

But there were many sounds. Taunts from the soldiers, weeping and wailing from the women near the feet of Jesus, even careless laughter from children playing haphazardly around the perimeter of the crucifixion hill, oblivious to the significance of this particular execution. Small dark puddles would gather briefly under the top beam of the cross, only to be covered by the shuffle of a guard's feet. And then it would start in again: drip... drip ... drip -little droplets seen but not heard.

Mary saw them. She stared at the puddle through her bloodshot eyes while his life flashed before her, and it seemed to her that the earth swallowed his blood as if it had been created for this. As if it were drinking its fill and would thirst no more.

Then she slowly turned her eyes up to his face, and her breath failed her. He already had her in the grasp of his eyes. It was the first time he had looked at her from the cross, and suddenly it seemed as if she were falling into a bottomless abyss. She looked until she could bear it no more and turned her eyes away so she could catch her breath again. Once more her gaze went to the small puddle in the dirt, and it seemed now that she, and only she, could hear the droplets landing, loud enough to shut out all other sounds.

Then she heard his words spoken to her: "Dear woman, here is your son." And to the disciple he loved, "Here is your mother."

Soon after that, the dripping stopped, right after the earth shook and Jesus cried out with a voice that nearly shut down Mary's heart for good. And all was still except for the sucking, sporadic breathing coming from the other two criminals.

"This one's already dead," said one of the guards. "Can you believe that?"

"No need to break his legs, I guess," said another.

"Well, just to make sure ..." One of them approached the dead body of Jesus with his spear, and before Mary could scream out, "No!" he thrust its tip up into the torso of the Son of God just under the ribs. Her scream and the sudden flow of blood and water came out at the same time.

Disgusted, the guard wiped a few drops from his face and walked away, oblivious to the fact that these were drops of blood that could set him free forever.

The most precious drops in the world
by John Fischer

Gah! I tell you, Jesus' crucifixion never fails to invoke that 'heart-wrenching-can-die' feeling in me, whatever form it takes. I'm serious! For example reading the above I also wanna cry already. Now, can you imagine the state I was in when I sat through 2 whole hours in the cinema 'watching' The Passion? Why 'watching' and not watching? Because I was looking down 90% of the time while the bodily fluid on my face succumbed to the laws of gravity. I just died la, can?

It happened to me when I watched Narnia too even though I felt that it was just an okay movie. You know the part where the 'bad guys' tugged and pulled Aslan by his mane, trashed him around, mocked him and then proceeded to shave it all off, haih.. yes, I cried. So, I wasn't sobbing and bawling (right, there was no bawling in the cinema, I was trying to keep as quiet and as still as possible in between sobs) like in The Passion but it had struck a chord in me nonetheless. I remember telling myself that I did that to Him, to Jesus, to the Son of God.

However, nothing can compare (well, not yet anyway) to last year's EW when Wee Leon read an article written by a physician describing the torture and ultimately the death Jesus endured on the cross, in detail (like an autopsy), aloud.

Can.

Die.

I couldn't stop crying and after a while I covered my ears because I didn't want to listen to it anymore, which was just silly because I could still hear him. And nobody told me to bring ear plugs before hand! I can choose not to watch, I can choose not to read but I cannot choose not to hear. I could have left the room but that would be silly too.

Anyway, that night, I chose to forgive the person who hurt me the most. I didn't want to initially. See right, the session before that was on forgiveness and I really felt God telling me to let go but I couldn't, no, more like I didn't want to. I decided to disobey. It was nice (in a sick and twisted way) to watch them squirm and feel all guilty and stuff. But after listening to the detailed account of...

*Cries*

I thought to myself, "Cheryl, Jesus went through ALL that, all that for whom? For you! So that your wrongdoings will not be held against you -the forgiveness of sin, once and for all! And if Jesus had to endure all that pain and suffering so that you could be forgiven, how can you not forgive this person for the measly little act *** did? If you cannot forgive then clearly you've not understood what Christ did for you on that cross."

And BAM! It hit me right at the core of my being. If I don't forgive then Jesus' death would have been a wasted effort, to put it bluntly. I mean, I cannot even begin to comprehend what He went through just so I could be forgiven and here I am, in my own little world being a brat because somebody hurt my feelings..

-_-"

Of course it hurt, it hurt like hell and it didn't seem so measly then but when I compare it to the ultimate sacrifice, e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g becomes insignificant, really la.

The cross, it does things to you, things which the world cannot understand. It's powerful! It transforms your life and renews your mind. You begin to see the world through the eyes of the Almighty.

You can have it too. It's as easy as ABC. You just have to Accept (Him as your Lord and Saviour), Believe (that He died on the cross for your sins, rose on the 3rd day and is alive) and Confess (that you're a sinner asking Him to forgive your sins). Hehe ;) It'll be the greatest decision you'll ever make in your life! I promise!

And to my fellow brethrens, as we reflect on the cross today, I pray that we'll continue to yield to God and that we will live a life of holiness and purity because this life we live is no longer our own. We were bought with a price -with the blood of the Beloved...



He became me so that i could become Him. - 2 Cor 5:21