SPLINTERS FROM THE CROSS
From the heart of an abused individual.
The Vision
As always, I cried out to my Savior, my Lord, my God, tired, with
desperation in my voice: "Jesus, I can't take this lonely
road again.
I've walked it so many times before yet it leads me
nowhere." I
swallowed the words but the thoughts numbed my brain as they
drudged on
unharnessed, nowhere but to the end of my emotions-to the void;
that
immense gulf of painfully cold blackness.
"Mary," He called softly.
"Yes, Lord?"
"How is it that you still don't trust Me?" His voice
was warm and deep.
"Lift your eyes to Mine." And with that He gently
placed His hand
beneath my chin and brought my face opposite His. Looking into
His eyes
I saw something I'd never seen before. There, a single tear
swelled and
spilled over His dark lashes and down His smooth olive skin.
First one,
then another. His heart was breaking for me. I lifted my hand to
wipe
the tears from His cheek, pausing to caress the precious face of
my
Jesus.
Then He took my hand gently into His own. I winced as my fingers
touched
the scar. He cupped His other hand over mine and with a pat of
reassurance, in that same soothing voice, said, "Follow Me.
There is
nothing to fear." With that He let go of my hand and turned
and walked
away.
There before Him I saw that road just as I'd always seen it
before. But
this time, Jesus walked ahead of me. I knew I had to follow. The
road
was long and winding. It was narrow and rocky. The incline was
sharp and
steady. My feet were heavy and each step became harder to take. I
slowed
to a crawl, but Jesus kept His pace and soon was far ahead of me,
out of
sight.
It seemed as though hours had passed as I neared the end of the
road.
But my heart was full of anticipation. I knew my Lord would be
waiting
for me, arms opened wide, just around the next corner. I wouldn't
have
to face the void alone this time. Filthy, exhausted and out of
breath I
finally reached the end. As I rounded the last corner I couldn't
believe
my eyes. Shocked and horrified a cry of agony filled my lungs as
I fell
to my knees.
"Nooooooooooooooo!"
There before me hung my precious Jesus, once again nailed upon
the tree.
His skin hung in ribbons. Blood flowed freely down that smooth
olive
face as the thorns dug deep into His skull.
There at the foot of the cross I wept, and once again I looked
into His
face.
"Why?" I asked Him pleadingly. "Why did You do
this for me?"
He pushed Himself up on the nail in His feet and gasped a reply I
didn't
expect.
"The question, My child, is not why?, but what now? What
will you do
with Me now?"
"I don't know what You mean," I sobbed. "What
choices do I have?"
Then there appeared next to me a large bucket, filled with a
lifetime of
atrocities. The stench was sickening, more hideous than anything
I'd
ever experienced before. It was all I could do not to wretch at
the
sight of it.
I looked again to the mutilated figure on the cross and, shaking
my
head, I pleaded, "I just don't understand."
Again He put all His weight on His feet and spoke in painful
gasps.
"Throw it on Me."
"No!" I screamed. "I can't! I don't understand, my
Lord, please help me
understand!" I continued frantically. "You've already
taken my sins, why
must You do it again?"
"These aren't your sins, My child, but the sins of the
one you seek."
"You mean, the one who hurt me," I said quietly. It was
more of a
statement than a question.
"But You've already taken his sins too; why must You do this
again?"
"My precious child," He spoke lovingly. "Each time
you seek him out you
drive the nails into Me all over again. Until you let go of the
past,
until you forgive him, I will hang here suspended in agony."
With that I grabbed the bucket and flung it as hard as I could
away from
my Savior into the void beyond the cross. Then I threw myself at
the
foot of that tree. There I clung with all my might, sobbing
uncontrollably.
"I forgive him," I cried. "I forgive him."
An angel came at that moment and released my sweet Jesus and the
two of
them soon disappeared from view.
I released my painful grip of the cross and pulled myself to my
feet. I
looked at my own hands and forearms, and again I gazed in
astonishment.
There, deeply embedded in my hands and arms, were splinters from
the
cross. As I pulled each of the shards from my own soft
flesh, the
wounds immediately began to heal.
Then, in a moment, the blackness of the void was overtaken by the
glorious light of the Son of God.
I was free.
written by
Mary Lawrence Comm
and appearing in the Heart Check Ministry devotional
Beloved
Scripture: (All references NIV)
Matt 6:14-15 14 For if you forgive men when they sin
against you, your
heavenly Father will also forgive you.
15 But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father
will not
forgive your sins.
Matt 18:21-22
21 Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many
times shall I
forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven
times?"
22 Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but
seventy-seven
times."
John 20:23
If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not
forgive
them, they are not forgiven."
2 Cor 2:10
If you forgive anyone, I also forgive him.
Col 3:13-14
13 Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you
may have
against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
14 And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them
all
together in perfect unity.
Submitted to me by:
Lois Witt of Faith With Knotted Threads
Ministry
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Tracy Davis
