“Empty the impatience, empty the anxiety.” You, Lord, can read my heart as it cries, “Give me a break!”
This tapestry of mine is frayed and torn and worn out, forlorn.
Then, I remember, when You walked this dry, barren land, officials with position put on Your head a thorny crown.
The words, “Give me a break,” come back to me, as I watch You in Your word, in silence You went, the way of the cross.
I have a payment owed. I can’t come close to pay it.
Death for my sin is the bottom line. To be separated forever from Your Love, for all time.
I am broken and frayed. I can’t meet the requirements. To be perfect and holy, there’s naturally, no way.
“I am willing.” Jesus answers. Not with words, but in action. The words of the pages bring the past into focus. The words are today, for me, in the present.
“Show me!” I cry. And He answers before my eyes:
Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face.
Once more Pilate came out and said to the Jews gathered there, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no basis for a charge against him.” When Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe, Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!“
As soon as the chief priests and their officials saw him, they shouted, “Crucify! Crucify!” (John 19:1-6, NIV).
The Jewish leaders insisted, “We have a law, and according to that law he must die, because he claimed to be the Son of God.” (John 19:7).
The word speaks with such sharpness. How the story often is blurred. But living, it speaks. To me, every word:
When Pilate heard this, he was even more afraid, and he went back inside the palace. “Where do you come from?” he asked Jesus, but Jesus gave him no answer. “Do you refuse to speak to me?” Pilate said. “Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?”
Jesus answered, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.”
12 From then on, Pilate tried to set Jesus free, but the Jewish leaders kept shouting, “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar . . .”
13 When Pilate heard this, he brought Jesus out, . . . “Here is your king,” Pilate said to the Jews.
15 But they shouted, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!”
How can I read all this and not ask, “Who is this Man?”
Praying, “God, give me a break.” He shows me, “I AM.”
Deeply woven in me is a sense of justice. But, it’s not found in You.
Weaved inside my being are threads that life should be fair. That what’s “right” must prevail.
But, Jesus. You didn’t fight. You didn’t defend Your innocence.
You remained silent. You weave the word s-a-c-r-f-i-c-e in Your cloak of Love.
And in my tapestry, you find competition, comparisons, insecurities, and pride.
And, who am I kidding, rudeness and evil thoughts thread their way through, knit, naturally within my whole being.
Rip it all out Lord. Rip these threads from me. I believe Who You are. You came that I might be made free.
Weave in me, Your Scarlet thread. Death to myself and my own righteousness – and my needing control of the circumstance. Re-weave me.
I am broken and frayed. But I believe You came. Let my tapestry proclaim You.
He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. (Revelation 21:5-7).