My Journey with Christ

Month 10

     It’s tomorrow. I woke up hoping it was all a bad dream. I stood up to go check His room. I knew He wasn’t there but I still had hope that it was not real.

     I got to His room and saw it empty. I felt this gut wrenching feeling filled with dread. I fell to my knees and began to cry so hard I thought I was going to throw up. My shoulders have begun to shake uncontrollably. Peter rushed to the room and saw me there. A wailing heap on the ground.

     He helped me up and hugged me. He told me everything was going to be alright. I don’t know how he knew that everything would be alright but I let myself believe him. He looked at me in the eyes and said “It is all part of the plan.” I was confused at first, but I just smiled and left to get dressed for the day.

     We all met together at the courtyard. The man that had the bullwhip yesterday came out.

I was suddenly filled with rage. I felt this big urge to go to the big man and hit him. I don’t know why I felt like doing it because the man with three times my size, with dark brown eyes and long hair with a beard. I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder holding me back, apparently I had advanced towards the man.

I looked to my right to see that Peter was a man holding me back. I looked at his face to see he was begging me to stop. “You will only make things worse.” He told me sternly. I stopped and turned back.

     Two minutes later I saw a man emerge from inside the walls surrounding the courtyard. I came to realize it was Jesus. He was in a terrible condition. I could the wounds from his back were healing, but He still looked terrible.

     The Pharisees gave Him a cross that was huge.

They made Him carry it. All I had heard them say was “walk carrying the cross.”

I looked at the cross and I could see it was heavy. I looked towards Jesus and He looked unhealthy and very weak. I don’t know how He did it but He managed to carry it. When He first try to lift it I heard Him yelling pain because the loose wood from the cross was digging into His wounds.

     He got it settled on His shoulders. He began to walk. The soldiers walked alongside Him. We did the same. He walked for a pretty long time before He fell out of exhaustion. People tried to help Him but the soldiers would not allow it. Jesus got back up on His own and put the cross back on His shoulders. He yelled worse because the cross seemed heavier now. He walked a little more than fell again.

     He landed on His knees and stared at the ground with the weight of the cross on him. It tore my heart in two seeing Him like that. I didn’t see God in Him anymore, I just saw a weak, frail man.

     He managed to get back up and continue walking. He fell once more, this time Mary Magdalene got to Him and wiped his face with a cloth. She got pulled away and left Him alone. Jesus managed to get up with the help of some of the soldiers and continued to walk until they got where their destination was.

     This is where the worst began. The cross He was caring was laid on the ground. I looked to see Jesus in excruciating pain because He had a crown of thorns digging into His head. The soldiers laid Him on the cross. They tied His hands to each side of the cross and His feet to the bottom.

     I suddenly felt out of breath. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even think. I heard his cries of pain and I turned only to watch as a they stripped Him of His clothes and nailed Him to the cross. Every time they hit the nail to go deeper into His skin he yelled out in pain.

I felt agonizing pain as I watched the man that I grew to know and love was die hanging on that cross.

     Two hours we spent watching Him struggle for breath. Soon enough He took His last. The blood that was trickling down His blood-soaked body stopped and He died. To my left I heard Mary’s mournful cry. She was shaking terribly from the loss of her only child. We tried to comfort her, but we knew it wasn’t enough.