My Sin Was There
Posted by Tonya Salomons on Apr 2, 2015 in Journal | 0 comments
My sin was there that day. The day He entered the garden. When the weight of iniquity pressed His knees to the ground. When His brow dripped red with drops of blood, right where the crown of thorns would sit.
My sin was there that day. The day when betrayal’s kiss pressed his cheek like the iron that would pierce His skin. When 30 pieces of silver slithered into the palm of Judas for a coup well executed.
My sin was there that day. When darkness ruled and He was arrested under the shroud of night. The Pharisees, fearing riots in the Temple, slunk coward as they stood behind the Roman and Temple guard.
My sin was there that day. When Peter, the Rock, shook fear and trembling. When his mouth opened and his tongue let loose denial, not once or twice, but three times he rejected the Son of Man.
My sin was there that day. It covered His back as He was whipped and beaten. As flesh was torn open and laid bare. When they pushed the thorns on the very brow that sweat drops of blood in the garden.
My sin was there that day. When the guards gambled for his clothes and spit in his face, mocking Him - The King of the Jews.
My sin was there that day. When the cross beams of salvation pressed deep into deeper wounds, leaving splinters and dirt and pain. When he struggled under the weight of the cross - the sin of humanity.
My sin was there on that day. When they pressed him on that ugly tree and when “[He] cast all my sins behind [His] back” (Isaiah 38:17). When the cruel sound of metal striking metal and the iron ripping flesh became the requiem of His love for me.
“He is despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.” (Isaiah 53:3)
