Dark red drops of blood flowed down long, brown hair. A crown, composed of inch-long thorns pierced the skull. The large cross that he was on, made of two boards, scraped against his organs that were exposed on his back. His hands were nailed through the palms and his feet through his ankles. His lungs were desperate for air. He shouted something and the sky grew black. Lightning struck, an earthquake rocked the earth.
That picture I just painted was of Jesus, the Son of God, dying on the cross. Just imagine, our Lord and the Son of God dying a gruesome death on a cross, suffocating. And he didn't do that for just me, he did that for you, and for your brother, your mother, your father, even the random stranger that sits on the sidewalk every day. Let me paint another picture now:
I saw the make-shift cross -- two boards nailed together -- with the three nails nailed at the hand and feet spots. A crown of thorns laid at the foot of the cross. Around the cross there were tens of people kneeling at the cross. I walked out of the red-padded pew and through the throng of people to the Pastor. I walked past him and kneeled down below the cross. I looked up at the glorious image and started crying.
This was about the same as our service this morning. So amazing. You should have seen it.
I just want to say this. JESUS IS NOT DEAD! HE LIVES WITH THE FATHER! THEY DID NOT TAKE HIS LIFE, HE IS RISEN! HAPPY EASTER/RESURRECTION DAY!