When I survey the wondrous cross…
There it is. Humanity. The sight of blood and
flesh exposed. A broken heart exposed.
A cup that was not removed.
Can you see it?
Not my will, but Yours.
Suffering the mind cannot wrap. The verdict
was for me. It was for you.
We stood there. Mocking. Shouting. Spitting
Nailed. Can I recall shoving the spiked crown onto
His perfect and bruised head?
Set upright for all to see, even afar.
The smell of human sweat, human blood,
human flesh, tears, bodily fluids, and human
This is our King. This is our God.
Survey the wondrous cross. Wood with splinters,
cuts, and gouges. Pierced. Old wood. Once a tree.
God’s humanity pours down the once a tree. The sweat,
flesh, tears, fluids, and waste. Soaking in.
Suffering and humiliation thick in the hot air.
Blood in the eyes straining to see
Looking in our direction. Pain and love.
His loving heart exposed. His suffering will never be ours.
He clung to it.
It is finished. Just like that.
I cannot conceive it.
Humanity and fluids.
Survey the wonder. Feel the earth shake
And cling to the stench of the cross.