The Gamble
THE GAMBLE
Of all the men who gambled there on the hill that day,
I felt I’d be the winner when I began to play.
And sure enough, it happened! I shouted out for glee
When all the lots were cast there, the winner had been me.
I picked the prized possession there from the rocky ground,
But as I looked there at it, and as I looked around,
I realized who had had it, I saw it stained in red
From all the cruel whipping of the man who wore it bled.
My mind should have been callused--we’d done this times before--
But what I’d seen that morning I just could not ignore.
No other man had suffered the way he had that day
And through the awful torture could still cry out and say,
“Oh, Father, please forgive them, they know not what they do,”
Those words he had there spoken were something strange and new.
“What had I done?” I wondered. I’d listened to the crowd
As for his blood they shouted with angry voices loud.
And as a Roman soldier, I only did obey
Commands that I was given to beat him on that day.
Now as I held that garment I had won fair and square,
I felt so deeply guilty for how he suffered there.
There surely must be something that’s different in this one;
He said he was Messiah, God’s only begotten Son.
He never cried for mercy through all that awful trial
While we beat and abused him with words so cruel and vile.
I sensed somehow he’d done this for people just like me,
And though his body’s bleeding, his love for me I see.
That day I took a gamble, I’d won his garment red,
But as I sobbed in sorrow, I trusted Him instead.
I took that precious garment and hugged it to my breast,
And said, “I thank You, Jesus, for giving me Your best.”
Copyright © Clarence Billheimer | Year Posted 2020
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