“Why
didn't it come true?” she cried. “I believed. I had hope.”
There
was no answer.
“Do
you even hear me?”
“I
hear you, child,” he said softly.
“But
I thought you promised.” She stood below his figure on the cross,
defeated and blinded by heartbreak.
“I’m
dying right now. Dying for you.”
She
could not look up at him.
“Look
up at me, child.”
“What
do you want from me?” she cried. “Just what do I need to do to
make this happen?”
“Look
up at me, child.” His voice, soft against the darkened afternoon,
resonated with longing. “Look up. Not down. You must look at me.”
She
was afraid of what she would see.
“All
I ask is that you look up. Is that too much to ask?”
She
had heard the weight of his body tearing the flesh surrounding the
nails. She had heard those nails pounded into his hands and feet, but
she had been unable to watch.
“Why
did you take my joy away?” she finally cried, eyes focused on the
ground beneath his cross.
“You
lost it by yourself,” he said. “I never turned away from you. You
looked up at me that one time so long ago, and then you dropped your
eyes from mine.”
She
felt the pull. It had been so long.
“Look
on me. My yoke is easy. My burden is light.”
“I
don’t want to feel your pain.”
“But
I feel yours, dear child. I know yours.”
She
wanted to look up, but it would mean accepting his gift as her own.
“Please,”
he cried. “I haven’t much longer.”
As
thunder rolled suddenly in the distance, the cry of his heart
resounded within her.
“Into
your hands, Father…” he whispered.
Gripped
by the moment, her eyes swung upward. She barely saw his face, much
less his swollen eyes, now closed in obvious agony, yet also in
anticipation of imminent release.
“Lord,”
she faintly managed.
His
eyes slowly opened. Peering deeply into the crevices of her pain, her
despair, her terror, he ripped them from her heart, and took them
upon himself.
“I
commend my spirit,” he finished and died.
-----------
Is
there something you believe God has promised you, and it didn't
happen? Do you feel that God has abandoned you in your need? That He
doesn't understand? How can the Savior who died for you not
understand your pain? He is there for you right now. Lay your
discouragement, your pain, your suffering, your disappointment, and
your heart at the foot of His cross, and look up. The promise of Resurrection Sunday and healing is yours.
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