My God grieves as in that night in Gethsemane
everytime my eyes gaze at idols
My Savior’s voice becomes a fading whisper
in my every doubt and grumble
My redeemer is crucified once again
as I turn my back from His loving face
Every idol, every ounce of unbelief
is my King’s crown of thorns
Each act of unfaithfulness is a shout of
“Crucify Him!”
My disobedience is the heavy cross He bears
and I lash His body a hundred times with my ungratefulness
His flesh is torn, His sweat mixed with blood
The wickedness within me hammers the nails into my Lord’s hands and feet
I hear Him groan in suffering,
still my utter pride takes Him to Calvary
The Son of God shall only die once
yet in every moment of my self-centeredness and rebellion,
Jesus Christ, my Lord and King,
in my heart,
dies a painful and gruesome death over again.
by: Sganarelle Villa