What do I do with what I've been handed?

At the beginning of 2017, I sensed God speaking to me about creating a play that would focus on pain and hope. Together with a small core team we spent much time in prayer and preparation developing it. As others joined, the creative expressions of art, song, spoken word and dance were used to herald “The Three Cries” in August 2018. 

         The following piece is what I wrote as Jesus’ pain and hope piece:

What do I do with what I’ve been handed?

Handed pain, shame, grief, depression, sickness, sin

That was not part of My plan.

So here I stand in heaven’s glory

Knowing someone is needed to redeem this story.

But the cancer of this earth has infected all

Eating them away from within. 

If left to themselves, in no time all will fall

Into life without hope and hope without life.

What is needed?

The seed of hope

That travels through the bloodline of a King

Who holds justice in one hand and mercy in the other.

Surely no one on earth could bear that weight.

This King must remove His heavenly crown 

And come down. 

Creator becomes the created; 

Divine meets human, human meets divine.

His upward glance would be to the Sacred Flame;

The Sacred Flame He still must be;

Burning perfect love on this earth ever so brightly.

Warmth to the downcast and the suffering.

His touch, His look, His voice… the seed of hope.

Those crying out 

Must find themselves drawn to His side listening with bated breath

To the promises that await them after death.

He too must groan, He too must cry

So humankind would not walk by

And say good-bye

To this King who couldn’t relate

To this broken world’s wretched state.

Yes relate

But greater still, He must swallow death’s pill like the rest.

Even so, that must not be the end of this King’s quest.

The created must hand the Creator the worst

From its’ table of atrocities for Him to eat;

Betrayal, abandonment, curses, all these must beat

And strip Him down to bare skin.

And through all of this they must think He could never win

The war against humankind’s soul;

Someone is needed to redeem this story.

I come to the garden where I have come so many times

before;

But this time I cannot help but implore,

The Sacred Flame to lead me any other way than to become

The sin, the cancer that has infected and disfigured humanity’s face

Into a gory disgrace.

I cannot describe the depths of my distress

As I press

Into the gravity of what I had come from heaven to do

Great drops of blood from my brow ensue.

Alone, I had come this far.

Alone, I would submit to the Sacred Flame’s will

Knowing that He would strengthen Me until…  

He had to turn His face 

For at that moment I would be humanity’s disgrace.

Was I willing to bear it?

Was I willing to share it?

When nothing I had done deserved it?

It’s NOT okay and someone must pay.

What do I do with what I’ve been handed?

I BECOME pain, shame, grief, depression, sickness, sin;

And I look deep within,

To the even greater depths of love burning in my heart.

And I rise from the dust and the ashes in which I have knelt

My face set like a flint 

I look evil in the face.

Like a lamb silent before the slaughter

I hand over… 

My wrists to those who shackle me.

My back to those who whip Me.

My ribs to those who fracture Me.

My cheeks to those who pluck Me.

My head to those who strike Me.

And press deep into my brow, thorns that slice Me.

My shoulders to those who heave a beam on top of Me.

My clothes to those who naked strip Me. 

My hands and feet to those who nail Me;

To wooden beams made from what I had made,

And I hand my heart to those who despise Me.

I suffer…

PAIN, EXCRUCIATING PAIN

SHAME, OVERWHELMING, HUMILIATING SHAME

GRIEF, OVERSHADOWING GRIEF

DEPRESSION, OVERTAKING, GRIPPING DEPRESSION

SICKNESS, DEBILITATING SICKNESS

SIN, DEBASING, DEGRADING, DEMORALIZING, ENSLAVING SIN.

BLOOD

BLOOD 

BLOOD

BLOOD

Inside and out, trickling, dripping, oozing, flowing, gushing like a torrent from every fibre of my human beingness.

BROKEN… POURED OUT… IT… is… finished. 

I glory

I glory in the pain I endured on the Cross, on which I had to die;

For if I had not, you would not have the chance to truly be alive.

You would never know that what you suffer, I have already gone before.

The pain of a life lived here on this earth has not gone away;

But as you take my nail-scarred hand I promise to stay

WITH you in the midst of suffering;

And have it turn into an offering,

Of hope for the downcast of soul,

Who need to know this is not the end of the story.

Life on earth… NOTHING… compared to life with Me in heaven’s glory.

Now come as you are and feel the Sacred Flame,

The One who calls you by name.

(The above video artwork was done by Carrie Job for “The Three Cries” after I described the imagery I wanted portrayed)