To feel His wounds
The Father laid His hand on his shoulder Before the beginning of the world and said: I will send the First! He came so quietly like a forgotten lamb… He left so shamefully like a despised and hated criminal. He hears our prayers. He heals our wounds with His gentle touch. He calms our troubled hearts: Peace be still! He lifts us up at the last day. He is our advocate with the Father, Pleading our case before Him. He is the resurrection and the life. With Him I’ll stand at that bright day! And because He came, He invites us to come unto Him To see His tender face, To feel His wounds, the symbols of His love for us. Always, I think of Him kneeling bore the Father with Uplifted hands and wrists so pierced with Eternal Pain, That forever shows His love for us His wayward children, His faith in us that we will make His sacrifice worthwhile And work for us. I know in some exceedingly small way what it is like to suffer with Him who suffered; “which suffering caused Himself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that He might not drink the bitter cup and shrink.” Despite that, He glorified the Father and said “Thy will be done!” I know what it is like to shrink before the unbelievable horror of pain. I know what it is like to strive against all odds and enemies on every side. I know in whom I have trusted. He has ever been my Savior and my Friend and Protector. I hope that I’ll never forget Him. Of Jesus Christ I bear witness with my words and my spirit and my life which is dedicated to Him. And when we all stand before the pleasing bar of the Great God to be judged By the Book of Life by Jesus Christ, the keeper of the Shepherd’s Gate, Who cannot be deceived by the wolves in sheep’s clothing, I hope that I will hear the words: “Well done my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.” April 27, 2008