"Good Friday"

 I know I was not able to feel the pain He felt,

I know I was not able to see the betrayal He saw.

The only thing I saw was His love,

His mercy on me—a sinner, unworthy, flawed.

I wasn't there when they spat in His face,

Or when they mocked Him, stripped Him of grace.

I didn’t hear the crowd scream “Crucify!”

But I heard His silence, as He chose to die.

I didn’t carry the cross on that dusty road,

But I’ve carried guilt, a heavy load.

Still, He looked at me through time and space,

With eyes of compassion, and arms full of grace.

I wasn't nailed, I wasn’t bruised,

Yet it was my sin that He willingly used—

As the reason to stay on that blood-stained tree,

So He could break the chains and set me free.

No crown of thorns ever touched my head,

But He wore it all so I could live instead.

No spear tore open my human side,

But from His wounds, mercy flows wide.

I know I was not there, yet still I cry,

Because I see His love that chose to die.

For one like me, who fails each day—

Still, He calls, still, He stays.