Three years of excitement
Before those heart stopping words.
Three years of following His footsteps.
Friend, we shall follow you to the end. Resolutions made.
Miracles seen. Teachings heard.
Miles covered underfoot, thirsting
bodies desperate. Great feasts
and great multiplication. Your
words are life. ‘Eat my flesh and
drink my blood.’ Who can handle this
teaching? Isn’t it too much? If it’s
too much, you also may leave. Oh, Lord!
To whom would we go? So they followed.
And followed, and followed some more.
Healing and deliverance and calming
of seas. His voice, is obeyed by the storms,
by the trees, by the demons—how about
human beings? So they walked and they
walked, ever behind His steps, though
He told them many times—nobody expected
what would come next. Laid back with His
followers, even washing their feet, He
predicted His betrayal as they sat down to
eat. He washed His betrayer and even gave him
bread—though for a measly slaves value
His betrayer would sell Him dead. With
the bell tolling, His knees hit the ground,
‘Watch and pray with me an hour,’ His simple
request. His agony was great as He sweat
blood that cried out for the salvation of others’
despite the fact that His prayers were deaf on
His sleeping brothers. Clock hit the second
and His betrayal was done. He was seized and led
to His crucifixion. Much went on in between but the
ending was sure, set, the plan from of old.
Followers who said they would never leave
did fold. But nothing ever was more cold, than
the declaration that came…
He didn’t make it…
© Daniel Schwamm, All Rights Reserved, 2015.