I could just barely see him as I shoved my way past what seemed like hundreds of people hovering over each other. At last, I reached the top of the hill and looked up, but I had not been prepared for the sight that lay before me. I fell to my knees against the rocky earth in angst, and a sob escaped from my dry mouth. I crawled my way to Yeshua as His eyes turned downcast, lifted my trembling hands and held his torn feet to my lips as I wept for the innocent. I raised my eyes towards him from the ground as He breathed three words saying, “It is finished.”
His body then sunk in and became stiff and lifeless. Without warning, the earth began to groan. The ground became violent and it shook everything that lay on it. The sky became an even thicker black sheet, as it began to choke on its own darkness. It was as if all of creation was in despair along with me. My fingers dug into the cross Christ lay on as I tried to stand and steady myself repeatedly. When people began to scream in a panic, I looked down into the city and heard the veil of the temple was tearing from top to bottom. The frenzy continued as an earthquake then shook the earth, split rocks, and opened tombs. Beside me, a Roman centurion who had been guarding Yeshua looked up into the sky and cried out exclaiming, “Surely he was the Son of God!”
I steadied myself once more after they took his body and went home, for there was nothing else to be done. It was not until three days later when He rose again that I fully comprehended what had happened. After the Lord showed me His hands and His side, I began to remember His words, His many words, and I finally understood what I had failed to before… My king, my savior, my friend. He makes all things new.
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