Whenever I stand at the foot of the cross that held my saviour bound, I look up and imagine him struggle for his last breath, and hear distinct chants from those rebels whosè sin he hid within his blood streams. He was bruised and battered, his body shivered to the overload of sin flowing through his veins, he forced his eyes to remain open, his head clamped with thorns, and his hands and feet were glued to the cross.
He wanted to stay alive, but sins upon sins were hipped on him which made him weaker and weaker. when all the sins were finally in him, he satisfactorily said "it is finished!"
As a kid which I will always be when I appear at the foot of the cross, I don't know how he managed to endured us all, but I know he did it for LOVE!
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