An unusual heaviness hung in the air
The wind didn’t stir, no leaf fluttered
The dead weight of engulfing darkness pressed on
It was a fateful night, horrible and stark
As a monument of misery, walked Jesus
Weary and distraught as never before,
With staggering steps to the Mount of Olives,
To the Garden of Gethsemane
For him it was the darkest hour of the soul
He needed to be comforted by his Father
Oppressed by anguish, pinned down
By the weight of the world’s sin,
He groaned and moaned
He wanted his disciples to keep vigil and pray
But to his great annoyance he saw them sleeping
Failed repeatedly by disciples,
Callously deserted by followers
He knew he had to drink the cup of pain all alone
He saw the demoniac hordes of hell surround him
He bowed down to touch the ground in prayer
His soggy eyes were lifted Heavenwards
At that fierce hour, sweat spouted out as drops of blood!
On the edge of a battle he knew he can’t escape,
He prayed in all earnest, his soul writhing in agony
‘If it be possible, let this cup pass from me
But not as I will, but thou wilt’
Finally the hour came for him to bear the cross
On his way to Calvary, many followed him
Not to share his pain or lessen his burden
But to enjoy this spectacle of disgrace and contempt
While the whole of his body sagged on three nails
And his flesh, cut and peeled at every point
He didn’t scream in agony, but remained calm
And a prayer escaped his parted lips
‘Father forgive them, for they don’t know
What they are doing’
Is there any other on Earth
Who suffered the worst type of betrayal
And the excruciating pain of crucifixion
With such forgiveness, in such grace!
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