Unconditional…What did you do today? Did you count the cost?


At the Cross

 

Every nerve and sinew in his body screams in pain. Unimaginable pain, with the intensity of the heat of the midday sun. The thought of one more step assaults his senses. Yet the consequences for stopping sets a chill in his blood. This sacrifice was always beyond his human control, yet he had chosen still, to come. The heavy, rustic beam upon his back literally carries the weight of the world. The dead weight of a lost world. Scraping and tearing at his raw skin. The weight of it bears upon his very soul. Sweat and blood pour into his eyes, blurring his vision. Now praying continuously, determinedly, he raises his eyes to the heavens. Dismissing the pain in his body.

Throngs of people bustle about. Some entertained, still others appear to be in mourning, somehow.

Do they understand?

Can they possibly know the cost of what is happening?

Sorrowfully, he thinks, most do not. Worse, some never will. It is for those, the very ones who do not know, that he endures this to the end. A necessity, he knows, for humanity.

From the very beginning he knew the outcome of his last three years on this earth. The consequences of the choice he made. His humanity takes him aback, astonished to realize the fear and the desire to be released from this task. He begins, himself, asking why; just like a man, he ponders. Yet, the ultimate knowledge of the necessity of all of this remains, the reason he came to this place, after all.

Finding himself at his destination, a sigh of exhaustion escapes. Very soon now, he thinks to himself. God’s will be done, he prays. Silently, his glance grazes the crowd.

Brutally he is thrown upon the beam he carried to this ravaged place. The loud din of the crowd molests his ears. He senses familiar presences in the crowd. They are here, doing just the things that were spoken at their dinner on the previous night.

His brothers do all of the things prophesied, to their horror and shame. They look on in sorrow and revulsion. Ashamed of their acts of denial and their human inability to stop the looming end to this saga. Not able to truly understand the necessity. These chosen followers remain unaware of their importance in this history of the world. Yet they stand upon the threshold of that understanding.

Intense flaming pain pierces his thoughts. His prayer is continual, he seeks the end of this ordeal. Fiery pokers shoot from his fingertips up his arms with lightning speed, as they are secured to the beam. The rustic nails grating at the very marrow of his bones. His feet and legs feel this immensity of agony next.

Then the bottom falls out.

He is raised above the crowd. A sense of vertigo takes hold as he is swung from ground level to the heights of heaven. Audible gasps and cries are clearly heard, even a familiar scream, muffled in fear. The weight of his slight frame assaulted by the pin point agony in his hands and feet, as all of his weight is bore by his agony weakened limbs, being held by only course nails. Cramping pain begins to pulsate within the muscles of these limbs. Vibrating through him with each beat of his heart.

Aware of those to each side of him, he looks to his right. Anger and disdain assault him from this side. A soul, unclean with anger, shouting obscenities and accusations his way. Turning his eyes and head from this sin, his sights meet those of a repentant man. This man acknowledges him in a way many have not. Somehow in his own repentance, he knows. Knows the identity of this middle man. This sacrificial life.

The thief begs his forgiveness, unashamedly. Admitting that this fate was earned by his own choice of actions. The man in the middle reassures this repentant soul. Promising that the kingdom of God would be his fate. Assuring the thief that they will be joined there this very day, in paradise. With no doubt the repentant man believes.

With that the skies muddy to gray. Flashes of lightening, that only an angry God can create, lights the dank atmosphere. The wind picks up and the clouds move violently across the sky.

The man looks up, with every ounce of energy spent. With his last bit of life he cries out to God. ‘Forgive them Father’; his first intercessory prayer for his beloved people. ‘They know not what they do!’. With that intercession complete he looks forward into the crowd. As the first drop of rain falls from the Creator’s eye, the man gives up his life and cries out, ‘It is done”. And he is gone.

Faintly in the distance a rending can be heard. A veil, thick with the blood of the Son of God, is rent from bottom to top. Fulfilling the words of the prophets and saving the world. With the fulfillment of the law a new covenant begins. The law obsolete and the old gone away.

Every man becomes a new creation.
All things are new.

A new faith is born.

A new hope is sown in the field of humanity.

Three days will prove the words of the prophets of old. The keys to heaven will be restored to the rightful heir.

One act of unconditional love saves all of humanity.

One act of unconditional love moves the hand of God.

One act of unconditional love, from brother to brother, saves a world of souls.

One act of unimaginable and unconditional love provides the inheritance to all, each and everyone.

Unconditionally.

Copyright © AHutchinsonPhotography- All rights reserved.

Copyright © AHutchinsonWords- All rights reserved.

My words and my images may not be reproduced in any form without my permission.

† † †

Stationary used in Typography Art ~ Gail Marie

Bleeding Cowboys font by Guillaume Seguin

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