W
CROSS
R
D
S
Lamb. Perfect. Hung.
Alone. Naked. For me.
Abandoned. Blamed. Spit on.
Mocked. Forsaken. For me.
Loving. Spotless. Alone.
For love.
Blood poured out. For me.
Broken. Crying.
Praying. Dying.
A garden beginning,
A garden His ending.
On a hill he hung
for me.
~~~~~~~~~
from the archives, J.L. Collins 2012
Linking with Sandy et al for
These few words speak so much. Even on this Tuesday, the Lord speaks to me in the stillness of your Saturday's words. Caring through Christ, ~ linda
AMEN! You beautifully tied the whole eternal event together. Thank you. Bless you… and please hug your dear ones from me.
Thank you for your heart-touching poem, that highlights so strongly the agony of our Savior. I never made the connection between the garden-beginning and the garden-ending. Brilliant! Now we can be like gardens, too (Isaiah 58:11). Praise God for His love and grace that prompted the gift of His Son! Praise Jesus, for His excruciating sacrifce! Praise the Holy Spirit who brings us to the place where we say, “Jesus is Lord” (1 Corinthians 12:3)!
Again, may you have a glorious Easter. HE IS RISEN!
yes. Yes. YES!!
So thankful! Happy Easter, Jody 🙂
'He ransomed a slave with a son.' Wow. Blessed, Joyous Easter to you.
Read this morning in Thomas a Kempis' Prayers and Meditations on the Life of Christ: …and He ransomed a slave with a son.
Yes, He did.
For you and for me…lovely little poem of lament and praise intermingled…thanks, Jody!
Blessed day of REJOICING, as you celebrate the Risen King this Easter. Love-Kel