My friend, Paul

My friend, Paul Johnson, has a daily verse for his youth church called ROOTS. This is his post today. I thought it would be good for us to look at also.

My enemies surround me like a pack of dogs;
an evil gang closes in on me.
They've pierced my hands and feet.
I can count all my bones.
My enemies stare at me and gloat.
They divide my garments among themselves
and throw dice for my clothing. Psalm 22:16-18


Today I'll use these words to imagine, Father.
To imagine Jesus on the cross, suffering.
A slow death, no one in a hurry.
Relentless pain.
Raw evil, hatred winning.
That's what this song, this prayer-poem, says to me.

Father, it is amazing.
This was written 1000 years before Jesus.
Yet it is his life, his cross, his suffering.

Imagine the people he sees from the cross.
Oh, what hatred surrounds him!
They're pit bulls, circling, attacking.
They taunt him, as he hangs there.
He is so helpless, they're so cruel.

They've stripped him naked, they gamble for his clothes.
They party while he twists in pain.

Imagine how he looks at himself.
His ribs showing.
His body with ribbons of skin hanging down.
His hands ripping, dripping red.
His feet bloody, oozing.
Every cell screaming with sensation.

Father?
This is your answer to my sin.
This is a friend, laying down his life for me.
This is love!

Nothing today is as important as this, Father.
Help me imagine this, picture this today.
Help me slow down, ponder.
Help me worship Jesus.
Who let his hands be pierced.
Let his enemies party.
Let his feet be nailed.
Let himself be brutalized, murdered.
For me.
For forgiveness of my sins.
For love.

I worship you today, Jesus.
I love you, Jesus.
Amen.