And God's Heart Broke
Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>
He could hear the hatred in their voices,
These were His chosen people.
He loved them, and they were going to crucify Him.
He was beaten, bleeding and weakened...
But still He walked.
He knew each of the faces so well.
He had created them.
He knew every smile, laugh, and shed tear,
But now they were contorted with rage and anger...
But still He walked.
You and I would have been, so His humanness
would have mandated that He was.
He felt alone.
His disciples had left, denied, and even betrayed Him.
He searched the crowd for a loving face and He saw very few.
Then He turned His eyes to the only One that mattered
And He knew that He would never be alone.
He looked back at the crowd,
At the people who were spitting at Him,
Throwing rocks at Him and mocking Him and He knew
That because of Him, they would never be alone.
The sounds of His cries echoed even louder.
The cheers of the crowd, as His hands and feet were
nailed to the cross, intensified with each blow.
Loudest of all was the still small voice
inside His Heart that whispered
"I AM WITH YOU, MY SON".
But instead He asked God to forgive.
Not to forgive Him, but to forgive the ones
who were persecuting Him.
As He hung on that cross, dying an unimaginable death,
He looked out and saw, not only the faces in the crowd,
But also, the face of every person yet to be,
And His heart filled with love.
As His body was dying, His heart was alive.
Alive with the limitless, unconditional love He feels for each of us.
When I wonder if I can be forgiven, I remember His walk.
When I need reminding of how to live like Christ, I think of His walk.
And to show Him how much I love Him, I wake up
each morning, turn my eyes to Him...
Like the little old lady who returned your wallet yesterday.
Like the taxi driver who told you your eyes light up the world when
you
smile.
Like the small child who showed you the wonder in simple things.
Like the poor man who offered to share his lunch with you.
Like the rich man who showed you that it really is all possible, if
only
you believe.
Like the stranger who just happened to come along, when you had lost
your way.
Like the friend who touched your heart, when you didn't think you had
one to touch.
Angels come in all sizes and shapes, all ages and skin types.
Some with freckles, some with dimples, some with wrinkles, some
without.
They come disguised as friends, enemies, teachers, students, lovers
and
fools.
They don't take life too seriously; they travel light.
They leave no forwarding address; they ask nothing in return.
They wear sneakers with gossamer wings.
They are hard to find when your eyes are closed.
But they are everywhere when you look, when you choose to see.
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