Lingering at The Cross

So I'm nearing the end of The Gospels and it's usually around these chapters that I push myself through The Hard Parts of Jesus' trial and beatings and crucifixion so I can get to The Empty Tomb as quickly as possible. 

It's painful to walk that path with Peter, to feel his fear and bitter anger. To watch as Judas' despair literally kills him. To listen as Jesus stands silent against his abusers and endures torture my mind can not fathom. Watching him stumble up the road to Golgotha and seeing him give John the responsibility of caring for Mary (ALL THE MOM FEELINGS) hurts me.

 I can not stand near the foot of The Cross and remain unchanged. It strips my heart and leaves me raw and exposed while I wait those long three days for sunrise. I normally work and read to get myself to The Garden Tomb as quickly as possible, but not this time. This time I'm going to allow myself to wear thin. To feel the scourging. The denial. THE PAIN. The loneliness and abandonment because I realized that by rushing through The Bad to get to The Good, I can take away The Weight of what His sacrifice really means. 

So, for today and tomorrow and the next day, I'm going to be feeling all my feelings. I'm going to be journaling and weeping and drinking an extra cup of coffee here in my chair while I allow myself to feel The Price of my sin because The Freedom that I have in Him is even more compelling when I stop and breathe and look at what it really cost.