A brief story that reveals how Jesus may have felt based on what we know of Him.
| Dear Child of God. . .
I wanted to let you know how much I think about you. . .
It started a very long time ago. . . I am sure that you have heard part of the story.
On a cool dark night, I prayed in the Garden. The fragrance of the ancient olive trees was thick as I talked with the Father. My heart was beating intensely, and drops of blood fell as sweat from my forehead. I knew what was coming, and what I must do. So. . . I kept my focus on you.
The disciples slept nearby as I submitted to the will of the Father. Soon, the sound of chains broke the stillness of the night, and I knew the angry mob was coming for me. When they led me away, those that called me friend fled and I was alone. I thought about the day when you and I would be spending time together. Later, I was beaten. . . I hummed your name softly all night.
The next day I was led to the judgment hall, to face Pilate. Accusations came from every side. They just did not understand . . . but my work was almost complete. In the Spirit, I saw your smile and kept silent.
Then I was led to be scourged. There were many soldiers who did this. They took turns like children playing a game, laughing loudly. And I forgave them. With each blow of the whip, my flesh screamed, ripping apart in agony . . . pain soared through my weakening body. Several times, I almost lost consciousness, I spoke your name for each stripe and my Spirit was strengthened.
I stood before the people, humiliated, my heart was broken. . . Crucify! Crucify! They yelled over and over. Blood streamed down my face from the crown of thorns that had been pushed into my skull. I knew I had been born for this. It had to be done..., it had to be done, for you. Yes, they betrayed me, but I knew one day you wouldn't.
The weight of that cross was unbearable and I struggled. I remember the day the Father planted the tree from which it came. The crowd had grown large as I was led out. They taunted and cursed me each step of the way. Occasionally, a cry or whimper of love broke through from those who had cared for me. The Father whispered your name in my ear and I found strength.
About halfway there, I buckled, staggered and started falling. Immediately . . . someone stepped in to help carry my cross, just as I will always be there to help carry your burden...If you will let me?
There is almost no way I can describe to you the depth of pain one feels as nails are driven into flesh and bone. The closet thing I can think of is how the Father feels when His children turn away from his love. Oh, that I might spare Him this pain!
The morning sun soon gave way to the darkness of sin that was laid upon me as I hung on that cross for the world. Death was dawning . . . blood slowly drained from my body, spilling on to the earth below. I looked out over the crowd, through the distance of time and I saw the Light of the Father in your eyes. I knew that I had made the right choice. It was then I gave in to death, so that you might have life.
I often talk to the Father about you and can barely contain my excitement . . . for I know the day of your surrender is near. I have waited a long time for us to be together.
Now, I hope you will know how much I think of you. So when the world is against you, and those closest can't be found, remember that I am here and I will get you through . . . just as once upon a time, you got Me through. Oh! That I might win your heart!