My name on His hand

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I looked up and saw the cross. I stood at Golgotha watching the crucifixion take place, my cheeks burned from the tears that were streaming down without end. I find that the more I think about the day, the more I am in disbelief at what has taken place. I don't belong here; I would never have come, except for the question, why me? I would hear stories of the death and resurrection of Christ, but now it's time to see the reason. But for that Gethsemane is the start.

I watch as Jesus goes deeper into the garden, a heavy weight upon His shoulders, as I sat down watching Jesus a strange heaviness fell upon me, almost as though a weight had been put on my eyes, I slept. I slept through the night nothing waking me up, not even Jesus coming back. When I did awake it was to the sounds of an army coming towards us, I looked and I saw Judas come before the Lamb, He kissed the Lambs cheek. At that moment Jesus turned to him,

"My friend, go ahead and do what you have come for." Jesus whispered almost too quietly to hear, I stared in anguish as the soldiers grasped Jesus' arms, the only thing I saw after that was the trees as I ran away. I wound myself back to the square the next morning as they pulled Jesus from the door; He scanned the crown in new anguish, knowing what was going to happen, looking back at what already had. I remember all He taught, and all I had learned in Sunday school the teachings and stories. I remember a man once saying it would only take one drop of blood to wipe the earth of sin, one drop. One drop shed from a Savior, as I thought of this I realized when they whipped the back of my Savior it would have been completed, one drop. As He stood now with accusations thrown around at him, he should have already been crowned King, and yet His death was going to seal it.

"Whom do you want me to set free? Barabbas or Jesus, whom some call the anointed one?" Pilate asked the crowd. With all of me I tried to cry out the name of my Savior, but every breath I took stuck in my throat. Around me a cry for Barabbas, then another, and another, soon the entire square was ablaze with that name. My own lips unwillingly screamed it out, my heart dropped as they lead Jesus out of the city, to the place of the Skull. I trudged up the path after them, as I crested the hill I couldn't hold back the tears, they rushed through me faster than I could hold them in. I stood frozen in place as I gazed at the one who gave His life for mine. Strung on the cross, His blood pouring out, He gave it all. Every drop of blood was going out from Him, from His feet and hands, His head, one drop, and yet He was giving every drop. My feet slowly walked to the base of the cross, my eyes glued to the face of my Savior,

"Why?" I cried,

"Why would you go through all this for me?" The hot angry tears flowed down, I looked up at the cross once more, as I watched I saw a transformation happening. My perfect Jesus, no sin, no shame, Took on my sin, took on my shame. He morphed into me for a second, all my fears, all my stupid mistakes, He took them from me. It was in that moment that He took the weight of all sin, and all grief upon Him. Every sickness leeched onto Him, every hurt, every tear, every pain, rejection, fear, anger. Ever emotion was on Him, I watched as He drew in a harsh breath,

"Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?" My sobs grew catastrophic. "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" I watched the emotions play on Jesus' face,

"Why are you doing this?" The devil whispered into His ear. I watched as He lifted His head with great effort, every muscle strained as He swung it to face His hand. As I stared at His palm I saw a name become carved out in blood. Abigail. I looked to the other hand as He did, Rachel. I watched as more and more names appeared. Elizabeth, Jessica, Rebecca, Naomi, Marie, Josh, Jacob, Ben, Louis, David. On and on the names became clear, a slow smile came to Jesus' lips as He read them all.

"That they too may know Me." His head fell back on his chest. I remembered a verse I had read in summers past, Isaiah 49:16 "See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands." I walked out past the guards, past the disciples, past the crowd of people. I sat down and gazed at the cross in the distance. My tears stinging my cheeks, this is why; this is why He went through it all. This is why He paid more than the cost; this is why He brought Himself low, so that I may know Him. A cry rang out. In that moment I knew He had accomplished what He had come for, though this time there were no tears. In that second of time, all I felt was Joy, the joy of knowing He loved me that much. I closed my eyes in total peace, I didn't know what God's plan for my life was, but I liked it. I didn't know what would happen, but I knew God and that was enough for me. I find that in the quiet times of my day, I remember how He went through all the pain, all the hurt, so that I would know Him. Because when I think of Him on the cross, I think of how He wrote my name on His hand.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 23, 2016 ⏰

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