Good Friday.
Do you grasp the horror, the grief of the ones who loved Him?
This Man they pinned all their hopes on--this day He would die the most agonizing death men of that day could imagine.
I wonder if any thought--prayed!--maybe a legion of angels would arrive and kill all the evil men who decided to put Him to this death? If God would rescue Him as miraculously as He had the Jews from the Egyptian soldiers?
Oh, the hate those men felt. Some probably thought they were doing God a favor. Some knew they were not.
The cruelty of the soldiers--flaying Him with the scourge, that ugly multiple-lash whip with pieces of metal at the tips--picture the barbs on barbed wire instead at the ends of several strips of leather.
The men who gambled for his clothing, woven of fine linen or soft wool.
And yet--"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Do you forgive and pray for those who deliberately, knowingly hurt you?
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