Jesus had self-control enough to finish what he came on earth to do – die for the guilty. It takes supernatural humility to be accused of being a weakling when you have the power to annihilate every person in the world in one millisecond. And it takes indescribable love to suffer such humiliation and brutality for people you formed cell-by-cell in their mother’s womb. The soldiers who nailed his hands to
rough pieces of wood, were unaware that Jesus created the trees his cross was made from. While they spewed insults at him, they hadn’t a clue that he was the one who made the tongue they were using to curse him.
Pathetic soldiers, standing there with weapons he could melt with one gaze. People shouting obscenities from lungs he could deflate with one thought. Yet he looked past that to what his father wanted. To reconcile us to him.
I thirst.
My throat is so dry.
The sun is beating down on me
As vultures hover in the sky.
I thirst,
And it makes me think,
This thirst is much stronger
Than just wanting a drink.
It’s for the souls of those men,
Cursing my name.
They are the reason I’m dying.
They are the reason I came.
Oh, Father, these I pray for
As I’m hung up on this cross.
It hurts so much to die on here,
But I know it’s worth the cost.
They don’t know why they do these things
Or who they are doing it to.
I would gladly suffer,
So that they might know you.
The hatred in their eyes,
Makes me love them all the more.
I thirst for their souls.
It’s them I’m dying for.
Forgive them Father.
I love them –
I thirst.
