The Cross
I rested there helplessly as they forced you onto me.
I could feel your arms being stretched from east to west.
I felt the sharp thorns as they pierced even into me.
I felt your warm blood as it trickled from your chest.
Then I heard you cry out in pain but I could do nothing.
I heard the sound of the nails as they were driven into your wrist.
I saw them cross your wounded legs and I heard the steel spike driven.
I watched the tears as your fingers gripped into a fist.
I felt your breathing as you labored hanging there for the world to see.
I watched them taunt you when you were thirsty, your lips parched from the sun.
I felt the thunderous jolt as they thrust me deep down into the earth.
I felt your mother’s arms around me and heard her cry “Look what they have done!”
I saw your tears as they ran down your bloodied face.
Why were they crucifying you between two other thieves?
Did they hate you so much they would let a murderer go free?
I stood there silently for I had no reprieve!
I heard you answer one of the thieves in a kind and loving way.
“Today you shall be with me in Paradise!”
I saw you look at Mary your mother and then I heard you say.
“Woman, behold your son” and to the disciple “Behold, your mother!”
I looked at the sign written above your precious head.
The sign read “THIS IS JESUS KING OF THE JEWS!”
Then I heard you cry again saying “Eli Eli, Lama Sabachthani?”
I knew it meant, “My God, My God, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?”
I heard you mumble “I am thirsty” but no water would they give.
Instead they poured sour wine and upon a hyssop did offer it up.
How could they do this to the only perfect and innocent man?
How could they honestly let this sinless man drink from this bitter cup?
“Father forgive them for they know not what they do!”
The sky grew black and the earth under me began to quake.
How could He have pity upon this deceitful murdering crew?
I heard the crowds begin to whisper, “He was really the Son of God, He was not a fake!”
I felt your breathing labor and then I heard you gasp for air.
“FATHER, INTO THY HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT!” your words begin to cry.
And with your last breath I heard you say “IT IS FINISHED!”
I then watched as you hung your head to die.
I stood there helpless and barren holding you with open arms.
You were Jesus the Christ and you were nailed upon me.
I began to cry for I could not bear to stand there for You had created me.
Yet I was the cross upon whom they nailed You so willing.
I have never been forgotten, I am still the cursed tree.
Yet I will forever bloom and my blossoms will show the sign of the cross.
Jesus the Son of the living God, shed His innocent blood for you.
Accept Him now as your Savior or be eternally damned!
What a loss!
It Is Finished! The battle over death has been won.
It Is Finished !There will be no more war over the soul.
It Is Finished! The end of the conflict, it is done!
It is Finished and in Victory, Jesus is Lord!
He is Lord, He is Lord.
He has risen from the grave and He is Lord.
Every knee shall bow and one day every tongue shall confess.
That Jesus Christ is Lord!
Some call Him Jesus,
Some call Him Master
Some call Him Savior
But I still call Him Lord!
written by Sybil Shearin (c) 8-2002
