Love’s Sacrifice

by Hazel Holland

I followed close behind this Man
Bent low beneath His crushing load.
How could He let men mock Him so?
Must He have reasons I don’t know?

I couldn’t stand to watch them jeer
And cruelly taunt His haggard face.
Those hands had healed; His words had led
Me to accept myself instead
Of hating who I thought I was,
And playing like I didn’t care.
He changed my life, of that I’m sure.
He gave me back myself and more…

I saw him stumble, falter, fall,
And rushed to soothe His sweating brow,
But soldiers shoved me out the way.
He bore His cross alone that day
Until some stranger passing by
Inquired to know what He had done.
Then soldiers roughly forced Him bear
His cross, alone, while I stood there.

I felt His love reach out to me
And draw me in to follow close.
In spite of pain and tortured mind
He touched my soul and let me find
That I was human… fully free.
He was the captive now, not me!

They drove Him on with savage hate
As if to banish from their minds
That God might have become a Man.
They would not stop their evil plan
And took Him up that lowly hill.
Would He display His power still?

He did, but not the way I thought.
He let them crucify Him dead
For all to see and wonder why
Was it for me He chose to die?

______________________
I wrote a number of poems in 1984 as I was struggling to deal with my husband becoming a paraplegic as a result of being hit in the stomach by an angry camper when we were vacationing up in Yosemite National Park. Watching him suffer reminded me of Jesus suffering for us. This is one of the poems I wrote at that time. I painted this watercolor 3/7/08 as I thought about the people I had painted on all fours who were "Prisoners of the Law". See following link for explanation: http://artfromhisheart.blogspot.com/2008/03/ministry-of-silly-walks.html