Monday, 29 December 2014

At The Foot of The Cross {A Story of Grace}

Dear Tabitha,
Simon is sleeping restlessly in the next room and may call at any moment. Normally I would not be brave enough to take precious time to write you but what I have experienced will not be contained in side of me. I know that you are kind enough and know me well enough to not even wonder why I do not confide in Simon. He would not care even if he could understand. But to my story.
I have seen the One, Tabitha. It happened on Friday. Simon had been worse then usual as a result of a fit he had Thursday evening, so I wasn't able to go for water until the sun had risen high in the sky. As I dipped from the well, I heard the noise of a huge mob and stood transfixed as the courtyard filled with people. I was swept along with them - I had no choice. It was a slow but powerful procession.
It was some time before I caught a glimpse of the reason for the crowd. When I did, I almost wished I had never ventured out of Simon's house. A man staggered weekly under a crude cross, blood seemed to clothe him from head to toe, his hair and beard was matted and caked with dry blood, a crown of thorns circled his brow and he had been stripped to nothing but an undergarment. To me he appeared to be just a common criminal on his way to perhaps a just punishment and yet something was different. There was no swearing and blasphemy as one would expect and why this crowd?
"Who is this man?" I wondered aloud.
"This is Jesus of Nazareth." Said a voice at my elbow. I looked around and saw a weak and fainting woman supported by a young man. It was the man who had spoken - the woman could not have. A life-quenching grief cried out from her eyes and seemed to suck her very strength. Her son, as I assumed the man, also had spoken as if it required his last ounce of self-control.
I'd heard of this Jesus. You'd told me a little and gossip at the well had told me scraps here and there. I had never given much thought to it because of all the conflicting opinions about this Man. But looking at Him now, I realised that there was no halfway opinion about Jesus. I was either one of His followers or I was crucifying Him.
A clatter and a cry from the crowd called my attention. Then Man, Jesus, had fallen fainting to the hard, cold, unfriendly cobblestones, the cross He had been carrying came down on top of His frail body. I began to weep uncontrollably as did many of the other women in the crowd.The sound of our grief seemed to be the only sound to reach Jesus' consciousness. He looked around at us and when His eyes met mine, I saw such love and pitty and forgiveness there that I knew the truth. This Man was the Son of God. He was God. This was the Messiah. He knew all about me and my life and loved me anyway. My heart was taken by a dying Man and in that instant I knew I would be His forever.
Finally the soldiers found a man, a foreigner, to carry the heavy cross and the procession moved again. They lead us to Golgotha - we used to play on it's rocky slopes as girls, remember? I couldn't look as they laid my Lord on the cross and drove spikes into His hands and feet. Every strike of the hammer made me shudder. How could they?
I don't know how long I stood there at the feet of the cross. I recall thinking of Simon once but nothing else mattered but the Man in agony on the cross before me. I didn't not even seem to be conscious of the crowd's mocking and jesting around me.
At midday an uncanny darkness fell over the countryside. I could not even see my hand when I held it up in front of my face. It was so dark you could feel it and it was only shattered momentarily by dramatic fingers of lightning accompanied by frightening claps of thunder. I stood dry-eyed and rooted to the spot in spite of my trembling. Even if I had wanted to leave, to try was out of the question. I would loose my way in the darkness or fall over one of the hundreds of boulders or small cliffs and injure myself. There was no yelling and mockery now, even the priests had gone silent and a heavy atmosphere of doom and terror settled over the group. All was silence as we waited in agony for what would happen next. Some believed that Jesus would save Himself and come down from the cross, some believed that hope was gone and tried to make their way back to the city.
Suddenly, just at the time of the evening sacrifice, a beam of heavenly light circled the cross and the Man's face shone supernaturally. "It is finished!" He cried, "Into Thy hands I commit my spirit." Then His head fell limply to his breast and all could see He was dead. Immediately, the darkness fell again and the earth shook. I fell to the ground, weak and wearied from the day's horror. When I awoke I realised that Jesus Christ, the Messiah, my new-found Hope was dead. I wept anew for the deep despair that welled up within me. Life did not seem worth living without this Man.
It was then that I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I spun around so quickly that my veil almost came off my head. Standing beside me was the man who had spoken to me earlier that day. I opened my mouth and shut it again not knowing what to say. My hands fidgeted to readjust my disturbed veil and I kept my eyes shyly on the ground. Softly and with deep conviction the man whispered, "Before He died, Jesus said, 'The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day will rise again.'" Then, he turned and with the same grieving woman leaning heavily on his arm, picked his way down the hill.
As I turned the words of Christ over in my mind, a heavenly peace flooded my soul. He is dead and yet He will rise again! I headed for home, a new spring in my step and a new joy in my heart. Jesus is the joy of my life. I see His love in everything around me. God is with me and Jesus has saved me! Hallelujah!
I could go on forever telling of the miracle of grace in my life but I hear Simon stirring and I have been absent a long time. But nothing is dreary now - I have Someone who loves me!
Oh that you could have the same assurance, Tabitha! Seek Him and you will find Him, if you search for Him with all your heart. There is room for all!
Shalom!
Rebekah

P.S He is risen!




[Verses taken from John 19:30, Luke 23:46, Luke 24:7]

Find the full version of this story in Luke 23:26-46 or The Desire of Ages chapter 78.

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