Good Friday: a time of remembrance; sacred; set apart to ponder the weight of the cross. As my dad and I stood in the back row of the service, I remembered.

“Man of sorrows, Lamb of God,
Oh, for sinners slain!
The sin of man and wrath of God
Has been on Jesus laid.”

The beast of fear is drawing near;
Dear Lord what shall I do?
I'm weak and poor and harrowed here,
But I must turn to You.

My faith is small, my strength is gone,
I have no hope, no gain;
Wallowing here, I see the One:
He took my sin and shame.

My brokenness, my finite mind,
Is lost in His great love;
And looking up I see the cross,
With fear nailed up above.

He put it there, writ' with His blood,
And gave His all, for me,
So I could rest with peace of mind,
Knowing that I am free.

 Jesus Knew Redux

(Psalm 22 on the right, response on the left. Style inspired by many poems of Kestrel.)

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? 

Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? 

Of course You knew

You still begged

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest

Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel

Is it enough that Your Father knows?

 In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them

Jesus knew every stage of the cursed tree He bled on. He was there when the seed fell to the earth with thousands of its kin; He watched it fight for root space and force its way to the surface. He had tended the dirt himself and fashioned the scientific principles that allowed it to turn sunlight and water into food. He knew where the oxygen it breathed out went.

Visions of his past,
Times he thought would never last,
haunted him,
Now that his eyes were open.

Grief hunted him,
Pain consumed him
completely now.
What had he accomplished?

A Godly fear took hold
of this man, weak and old,
now dying.
And he begged for Love.