A Mystery of Love

A Mystery of Love Who can understand. Why would a person sacrifice himself in such a way. Spat on, slapped, falsely accused, deprived of sleep, given no food, unquenched thirst. Hauled before Pilate the Roman governor. No guilt found but crowd cried for Barabbas, a murderer and rebel, to be freed. No guilt could Pilate find, but the throng called for His crucifixion. Scourged by Roman whips, hunks of flesh torn and blood flowing in rivulets. Crown of thorn smashed down on His head, blood streaming into His eyes. Purple robes of a false king draped around His shoulders. Forced to carry the cross beam of His cross until He collapsed. Hand forged spikes driven into His wrists and ankles. Stripped naked and His clothes gambled away. Hanging in the hot dry sun his parched lips cooled by vinegar wine. He cried it is finished and gave up the ghost. His side pierced by a Roman spear to make sure. A mystery to me why anyone would allow this to happen. The only answer has to be love. God loved us so much He gave His only son to die for us. Only He would consent to this and His ways are beyond our understanding. His life for ours.