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"...But as I meandered down past the least populated lanes of East Coast highway, I could not get the painful matter of the cross off my chest. Not the jewelry, the crucifixes that people wear for luck or tradition. But the splintered wood nailed together by men who did not consider the human suffering that would be laid upon its crossbeam. Pain. The kind that proper society would not consider polite dinner-table conversation. Pain as heavy as the world sinking into the man's chest until he became it - the cries of hungry, sick, angry, and hurting people needing an emergency bridge to God. Christ became the cries. The pain. The death. While He hung in vertical humiliation, He lifted His face to say my name as He swallowed my bitter pill, and said He was done so that I could cross over His lifeless body, clean.
Pain. I finally got it. The necessity for suffering, so that from the pyre of misery, eyes would be lifted up to see God' Son and emulate in a smaller worm-sized way His price".
Sandpebbles - Patricia Hickman
Mar. 25th, 2004
"...But as I meandered down past the least populated lanes of East Coast highway, I could not get the painful matter of the cross off my chest. Not the jewelry, the crucifixes that people wear for luck or tradition. But the splintered wood nailed together by men who did not consider the human suffering that would be laid upon its crossbeam. Pain. The kind that proper society would not consider polite dinner-table conversation. Pain as heavy as the world sinking into the man's chest until he became it - the cries of hungry, sick, angry, and hurting people needing an emergency bridge to God. Christ became the cries. The pain. The death. While He hung in vertical humiliation, He lifted His face to say my name as He swallowed my bitter pill, and said He was done so that I could cross over His lifeless body, clean.
Pain. I finally got it. The necessity for suffering, so that from the pyre of misery, eyes would be lifted up to see God' Son and emulate in a smaller worm-sized way His price".
Sandpebbles - Patricia Hickman