Why Did He Weep?

On a hill far away, stood an old rugged cross: have you ever heard that song? Do you know what it is referring to? I picture a dark scene with three raw-hewn crosses and a crowd, some mocking others weeping below. It’s not a very pretty scene and it is sad, very sad. 

Crucifixion was the cruellest form of death known to man, so painful in fact that the word excruciating is related to it. On the centre cross was an innocent man. Not only was He guiltless but He didn’t curse and swear and say all kinds of blasphemous words against the people that put Him there.

Why was He like that? Would you have been that forgiving? I sure wouldn’t! But He, God’s Son, came to earth for that very purpose. First, He went about doing all the good He could so that people would sit up and take notice that GOD IS LOVE.

There is a lot of things that God is not, even though people seem to think He is, but the one thing He is, is LOVE, and love covers so many areas…

Back to the cross on the hill, what do you think He was thinking? Among other things, I suspect He was heartbroken, not because He was being treated unjustly but because so few would accept His gift of salvation.

What? Salvation? What do we need to be saved from? We were born in sin, and because God is so perfect and full of love He could not have His beautiful Home in Heaven spoiled by bad attitudes, BUT He really, really wants us there!  He wants to save us from sin, which is what keeps us from having peace in our hearts.He wants us to be happy while here on earth, so Jesus, His Son offered to take our punishment so that we could live a life of freedom, peace, and joy.

Do you get what I mean? Have I explained it clear enough? Admit that you do wrong things and have bad attitudes; that you have sins ask Jesus to take them all away, and pray to Him every day so that He helps you to do what is right and not keep falling back into sin.

If you have any questions or desire prayer, meet me on Hang Outs. 
P.S. I thought of writing this post when it came to me that He must have been heartbroken that so very few people of all the millions ever born would ever truly love and serve Him. 

I guess God gave me that reminder because I try to write books that will bring honour and glory to Him and yet so few sell. He understands when we feel like we are failing.  

When You Feel Like a Failure

Grandpa and Grandma Jones leaned on their hoes and gazed at the frost-blighted crop. When a tear simmered like a cold jewel on Grandma’s cheek, Grandpa put his arm around her shoulder.
“We tried so hard,” Grandma sighed.
“We should have covered the plants, we should have listened to the weather forecast, we should have"—
“Aye, there is so much we should have done,” his wife sighed.
He helped her get down on her knees wondering all the while, what she wanted to look for. It was obvious that the garden was covered with whitened stocks. The early dawn coolness would soon dissipate and the then blackened stocks would look more pathetic than ever.
Granma searched until she found a pod with over-ripened peas, then another and another. Grandfather stooped down to help her search for seeds, and although pitifully few they did get some.
Grandpa and Grandpa looked at each other with new hope in their eyes. “We failed in so many ways, but there were some good fruit and plenty of good seed to start again.”
“Good seed,” Grandpa murmured looking with the eyes of faith into an unknown future. “Even if the soil was poor and covered with weeds, we need not despair because the seed was God’s.”
With shining eyes, Grandma shifted some seeds from one hand to another. “We will keep planting the good seed into the hearts of our children and grandchildren. Even if their hearts seem crowded with other things-“
“Or frozen—“
“We know that some will sprout—“
“And bring forth good fruit.”
They turned their back on their disappointing past knowing full-well they would keep planting, watering and nurturing each little seedling that sprouted, for surely someday and in some unforeseeable way the Lord would bless their efforts.

Alone and Suffering

This poem is my gift to you  if you feel all alone and as if no one cares.  If you can, print it out and tuck it in a safe place where you can always find it. Contact me if you need someone to talk to.

You are the one

That needs a home

A mother's love

A Daddy's care

You are the one

Who haunts my dreams

Disturbs my sleep

With your sad stare.

You are the one 

Who will be sighing

In some dark place

Alone tonight.

You are the one

I'd love to find

Take to my heart

And hold you tight.

Oh Precious Child

Just pray to God

And trust in Him

I know He cares

Oh Troubled Child

I pray someone 

Will Find you soon

And call you theirs.

One Wrong Decision

One Wrong Decision

Dear Diary, Cara stared at the words with growing frustration, then anger. Why do I have to resort to pouring out my feelings out on a mere scrap of paper? Isn’t there anyone, anyone at all who cares and understands? She clutched at her hair. I sure blew it way back when I was a kid, but I didn’t know any better, did I? Or did I? She leaped up and paced back and forth in front of the darkened window of the cheap apartment building.

Dear Diary, She sat down and stared at the words once again, then picked up her pen. Memories came flooding back. From her viewpoint the most precious recollection of them all seemed to be enshrined in gold. I was so happy that summer when I was nine. Les and Bonny cared for me like a daughter. I know they cared even though I stressed them out many a time with my wild ways. But I blew it. I blew it! I chose not to stay, and every home since then has been worse in one way or another. I never knew it would be such a rocky road if I took my own way, but how can I ever get back to that peace and serenity I knew as a kid on the farm?

She pressed her fingers against her lips to keep them from trembling, but the tears pooling in her eyes couldn’t be so easily stooped. I even stooped to asking Les’ if they would take me in; let me find a job in their community, but no, of course not. It was too late. They had their own children to think about. They didn’t say so, but I knew they thought I might be a bad influence on them. And it’s true. I might.

She viciously tore the tear stained paper out of the notebook, ripped it in half, crumbled it, and tossed it on the floor. I’m not the same girl I was then. In some ways I am even worse. And, yeah, their children would be curious to know what I have gone through, and in a weak moment, I would tell them…and relish it.

Oh God what do I do about this longing in my breast, so dull and yet so real? I want a different life. I want to find that light at the end of the tunnel but there are so many boulders in the way. How will I ever find it? She lay her head down on the desk and wept.

Come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew11:28

If this sounds like you, remember there is HOPE. Reach out to God and he will reach out to you.