It was Me

They led Him down to Calvary,
broken, bruised and wounded.
He was beaten and scourged,
whipped by their cold, calloused hand.
Despised and rejected by them,
He was taken as a lamb to the slaughter.
They openly mocked and mistreated
and in oppression and affliction,
He quietly bore the pain of their grief.
The crowd roared with harshness,
“Crucify! Crucify!” yet no man came to His side.
In innocence He bore sins and sorrows,
the cross weighed heavy on his back.
He was nailed, pierced and crushed,
and then in agony, He gave up the ghost.

We read and observe,
we recount the old words,
we pause and we wonder,
“Just how could it be?”
Where was their heart,
were they really that course,
how blind were their eyes
to the Man they led to the cross?

And I think, “What of me?”
Had I been standing there,
what might my reaction have been?
Oh, I never would have marched,
and called, “Crucify this man!”
how appalling and bitter the thought.

But today comes to mind,
and my head drops with shame,
do my actions still crucify him?
Am I beating and kicking His bruises and scars,
despising and calling out names?

Do dark, ugly sins, hidden down deep,
keep pushing the thorns in His skull?
Is it my hammer of ill-will, I harbor inside,
pounding the blows to the nails?
What of my attitude, small though it is,
is it piercing the sword in His side?
My lack of devotion, my heart less than contrite,
is it whipping and scourging his back?
Does His head hang with shame while He cries,
over the pride in my actions and words?
Unforgiveness, bitterness, and so much more,
am I crushing him low with my blows?
Am I swinging the whip and calling the names,
with my heart filled with mire and deceit?
Do I crucify Him over and over again
and yet think I would not do the same?

“Jesus!” I cry, as I kneel at His feet,
“Forgive me, forgive me today!
Forgive me for swinging that long, brutal whip,
while I accused others of causing your pain.
You hung on the cross with your head bending low,
and it was my eyes you saw staring back.
It was my sins you bore and my ugly, dark heart,
when you cried, ‘Father forgive, they don’t know!”
Then with love in his eyes, He stretched forth his hand,
and held mine with forgiveness and grace.

Thank you for loving me in my lowest of low,
for staying and taking the blame.
Thank you for walking that long, lonely road,
for dying that slow painful death.
Thank you for rising and setting me free,
Hallelujah, you’re coming again.

crown-nail

Life ‘Round Here

~
Some days thoughts and questions swirl endlessly through my head, so many I don’t know how to start putting them into words. Many of them get scribbled, scratched and tucked away for another time and place. Not many of them make sense, at least not enough sense to be spread across the world wide web.

So instead of scaring you forever by giving you too much to read, here’s bits and pieces of our life lately.

~~~

3-30-16 (1)
And then there was this one time that they got along so well they read a book together.

3-30-16 (2)

These two.
The big one doth mucho mucho spoil the little one.
I think it’s all to hear the little one say,
“Madison is my faborite!”

3-30-16 (3)

Somehow when I wasn’t looking, Mr D grew up and was old enough to go to school. I declare he was just born the other day. We thought we weren’t ready for him to go, but my oh me, these days of peacefulness sure are a beautiful thing. In his very own words, “I bet there will be not as much screaming around here when I am in school!”
To be sure, he is correct.

~~~

We went to FL for Spring Break the first of March
and it was just what the Dr ordered.
Days of swimming, sand castles, and eating.

FL 16 (1)

This sky spoke to me.
It is the closest thing I’ve seen to the light of heaven.

FL 16 (2)

On an evening when photos were suppose to be perfection,
this Mother had a healthy dose of reality dumped on her once again.
She then remembered other years and the outcome of
photo-shoots with these very same children.
Why did she get her hopes so high?
Will she never learn her lesson?
Tune in this fall when she tries it again.

FL 16 (3)

FL 16 (4)

I sat on this pier mornings and wrestled questions, thoughts and tears into subjection.
Or I tried. I’m not sure any progress was made. Coming to grips with certain things takes a long, long time and a lot of question asking of God.

FL 16 (5)

One morning the waves were madly beating all around me
and it felt very much like life at the moment.
As I sat on the pier, it didn’t budge an inch,
and I was reminded that I must rest in the only One
who is firmly anchored in the storms of life.
Nothing will shake Him, nothing will move Him,
He is in this with me for the long haul.

~~~

3-30-16 (4)

We were in Indiana a few days.
Grandpa landscaped one day with a lot of help.
Or rather he tried, but it turns out some help is overrated.

3-30-16 (5)

Jaxon is getting b i g so fast.
He has the sweetest of smiles (when he feels like it).

3-30-16 (6)

I played hide and seek with Libby and her blanket.

3-30-16 (8)

It was just good to spend time with these people again.
These are the ones who just ‘know’ without words, what you are feeling.

3-30-16 (7)

Sunday Mom made deviled eggs for lunch. The rule of the day was anyone who ate an egg had to put the whole thing in their mouth and eat it in one bite. This was in honor of Tris’ method of eating deviled eggs, one gulp and it was gone. For some it was no problem ^^ while others struggled a bit, but they sure were good.

“`

One morning Dad called Mom and said to go out and look at the sky.
There it was, the Easter message so big and bright,
hanging right over us, just for us.

Cross

When we are in the middle of the storm, fighting fear and despair, it is then God gently reminds us, “Yesterday I died for you, today I live for you. Hold on to me, I will be here for you, because I love you.”