In Your Passion

I never wanted to face the blood before,
a pouring out of an innocent man's human heart.
You had a mother who watched vigilantly
and cared with such sorrowful longing,
she knew this cup You must drink,
her eyes never left Your torn side.

Then why did You lay still,
motionless in word,
turning the other side
so they could mock You
and scourge Your holiness.

I find myself turning away from the nails' imprint,
unable to keep my confidence & happiness
because when I see Your humbleness
how You didn't even fight the Pharisees,
I somehow wither.

Why didn't you defend Yourself?

To know You only desired Your Father's Will
and whatever betrayal and humiliation come,
You remained, steadfast, merciful
to all persecutors of Your truth.

I have crucified You
by every resentment I nourish.
Please help me meditate on your suffering
and come to realize how beautiful you are,
that Your devotion to Your creation
and love for us, the lowest sinners
brought you to carry the cross;
Your promise to send your most holy spirit
that we might remember
through Your flesh.

I will remember Your agony
as You stood beaten and whipped,
You have shown me love
unfailing, inspiration unable
to be brought down by death.

Through dying,
You live among us.