Something to Think About . . .

Discussion in 'Free-For-All Archives' started by PoetofPraise, Apr 15, 2003.

  1. PoetofPraise

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    With every heartbeat, the pain pronounced,
    as gnats swarmed thick about His head
    and blood trickled into His eyes and ears,
    while the salt chafed His skin from the sweat.

    And the thorns pierced Him ever deeper,
    this wicked device called a crown,
    an attempt to humiliate and defeat Him,
    yet, He uttered not one hateful sound.

    The soles of His feet became gashed and torn,
    and the splinters buried deep into His flesh,
    His shoulders rubbed raw from the weight of the wood,
    the vehicle by which He'd meet death.

    So tired and weak, His legs trembled
    and His knees buckled under the strain.
    As He fell to the ground, the people just laughed;
    how much they enjoyed seeing His pain.

    With effort He rose to continue on
    and came to the place where He'd die.
    Quietly, He lay down on the rough wooden cross
    as His ankles and wrists were then tied.

    With eyes tightly closed, He knew the next step
    as the weight of the gavel released,
    and the nails ripped into His delicate flesh,
    severing tendons in His wrists and His feet.

    With a jolt, the cross raised harshly upward,
    and Jesus hung naked before ignorant men.
    Though they spat and they mocked and they laughed and they jeered . . .
    with love He looked down and forgave them.

    After hours of torment, He could no longer endure,
    and the time arrived for mercy to meet truth.
    Just before giving His spirit to God,
    He whispered, "For you, child. All for you."

    He'd pressed onward in pain; never to give up;
    through it all, it was me on His mind.
    For even back then He considered me His child;
    He loved me and gave me His life.

    --Cheri Henderson
    Poet of Praise
  2. Mike McK

    Mike McK
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    New Member

    Sep 14, 2001
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    That's really good. Did you write that?
  3. Sherrie

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    Jul 28, 2002
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    That was truly good. Thank you for that poem.

  4. PoetofPraise

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    Yes . . . and all glory to the Lord! I didn't write a word of poetry until the week after I got saved. But since that time, the Lord's given me over 160 poems . . . and many have been published in Billy Graham's "Decision" magazine and many other Christian magazines around the world. My prayer is that the words that flow from my pen will touch the hearts of all who read them, and that lives will be changed forever for the glory of God!

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