Rumours abound - Crucified King is Alive

The King Arises

Today I am filled with expectant hope, I know my King is the Son of God. He raised Lazarus from the dead - so death can't have any hold on him. 

There are cries and angry voices as I near the tomb. Soldiers are in disarray, searching for something.

The King is missing

The tombstone has been pushed aside. Using the confusion as a camouflage I slip behind the men and peep into the sepulchre. Squinting I see nothing, but the light from the open doorway reveals a white linen cloth on the floor that had been wrapped around my King's body. 

Soldier's mystified

My Saviour is gone. I take a deep breath - The soldiers have been guarding the tomb with Roman precision - there is no way anyone could sneak in and remove Jesus. 

I want to jump and shout, to tell the world that my King is alive. He has risen just as he said he would (Mark 9:31).

Jesus has Risen

Alleluia, Jesus has Risen, 

My sins forgiven,

Glory to God in the Highest,

His sacrifice, the conquest.

Death overpowered,

His love showered,

Upon me, a sinner,

God the Almighty winner.

We are the Easter People

Happy Easter my wonderful friends. 

Thank you for following me on my journey through Holy Week. 

May Jesus rise in your hearts today - we are the Easter People - the hope in a sinful world. 

Many blessings,

Margaret

https://www.facebook.com/MargaretKazmierczakAuthorBlogger/

www.margaretk.co.uk 

(Note: This is my expression of Holy Week, the order of events may have been a bit different.) 

King found guilty. Verdict pronounced - flogging and Crucifixion.

The trial

After a night of waiting in the Temple court, shivering from the night cold a whisper circulates that my King has been tried. A group of soldiers emerge from the Temple. My King is bound and stumbling along between them. They march him straight to a short pole splashed with blood. A foot jams the back of my King's legs and he nosedives to the ground. 

No mercy

Now bound to the stake, I watch in horror as the flagrum is waved in the air and slashes down with force onto my King's back. The lead tips rip off his skin and blood spurts out in all directions as the torturous instrument returns to its owner. Strike one, strike two, strike three, on and on (Matthew 27:26). 

I choose to stand in front of my King and attempt eye contact. I feel sick as I can do nothing to ease the pain. As the whipping continues, open wounds grow and form trenches down my King's back. His hands in fists shaking, eyes tight shut with life draining away. Finally, he collapses and lying in his own blood the torture finishes. The soldiers watching laugh, how little life seems to mean to them. The sense of evil wandering around the courtyard chills my bones.

I try to reach my King's outstretched hand but a soldier stamps on it. I say nothing as the pain is minimal compared to such a shredded back.

The Crown of Thorns

To add insult to injury once my King has raised himself up and is struggling to keep upright, one of the soldiers rams a crown of thorns on his head. Another slings a red robe around his mangled shoulders (Matthew 27:27-31). The material is instantly drenched with blood and I see a grimace on my Saviour's face. 

The final journey begins

Scarcely able to put one foot in front of another, a burly soldier points to a Crossbar and demands that it be carried to Calvery. Two soldiers heave the wood onto his shoulders, the splinters digging into the muscles on his back. With steely determination, wiping the fresh blood out of his face my King slowly drags his decimated body towards his destiny. 

On the road to Calvary

The crowds hustle on either side of the road eager to see what is happening. Running behind the onlookers I jump periodically to keep an eye on the progress of my King. Three times he falls, smashing onto dust and stone, the crown of thorns piercing his head each time. I felt he wouldn't make the journey with such horrific injuries. On the third fall, I see soldiers seize a man from the crowd and command him to help (Matthew 27:32).

The King's final resting place

On the ground ready for the Crossbar lies the upright post. My King places his piece of wood in the groove. Still, the Cross is incomplete, its arms desiring a victim. My King without any force surrenders to the inevitable and collapses onto the wooden surface. I sob, can a man endure anymore? Then three soldiers hammer nails into his hands and feet.

The Cross is now dragged over small rocks bumping my King and creating spasms that surge through his body. The soldiers raise the Cross up and crunch it into the dry stony earth. The jolt wrenches his hands and feet moving them against the iron nails. 

I am not worth

Watching my King die in excruciating pain tears me apart. I see him gasp and I plunge to my knees - I am not worthy, forgive me, Father. His eyes fade and all is gone.

The wind is blowing up a storm and clouds darker than the night roll overhead. The earth is shaking and as I look towards Jerusalem I see the Temple split in two. My King's prophecy has been fulfilled (Matthew 24:2). 

An eerie silence descends, and my world turned upside down - now what? My King is dead....

This week is Holy Week a time to ponder on the events leading up to Christ's death and Resurrection. We too are on a journey not necessarily to the same grotesque end, but nonetheless to a place that requires sacrifice, forgiveness and love to walk there.  

Come and join me each day as I accompany Jesus on His journey.

God bless,

Margaret

https://www.facebook.com/MargaretKazmierczakAuthorBlogger/

www.margaretk.co.uk 

(Note: This is my expression of Holy Week, the order of events may have been a bit different.) 

News Alert King arrested - soldier's ear hacked off

The last meal

There is talk of my King having a meal in the Upper Room. Two disciples have sprinted to Jerusalem to prepare for the feast, there is a buzz among my King's closest followers. 

Before my King arrives at the Upper Room I sidle in and sit in a dark corner barely breathing trying not to make a noise. There is an extensive table with twelve wooden chairs neatly tucked in, one at the head with a towel slung over the back where my will King sit. The feast had already been prepared to await its guests (Luke 22).

Service

At sundown, chatter, laughter and enjoyment fill the room as my King enters, his friends following. So absorbed in their amusement they do not see me. They settle down and my King takes centre stage. He removes the towel and insists on washing the men's feet, Peter is indignant and refuses - then submits. My King is very persuasive. One by one with sandals removed, dirty dusty feet are cleansed and wiped dry (John 13:4). What an example my King is, I have never seen such an outpouring of love.

Remember me

I am hungry watching them eat if only I could catch a piece as it falls to the ground. But movement would give away my presence and I daren't risk that. The King takes a large loaf blesses and breaks it then hands a piece out to everyone. Next, he takes the wine, sips it and passes it round. He tells them to remember this moment and to do likewise when he is gone. 

Gone, where is he going? The group question as I do what he means (John 14:5).

Betrayal

Having eaten, disbelief rises as my King announces that someone in the room is going to betray him. Swallowing that bombshell my King prophesies that Peter will deny him three times. So many revelations in one night I am beginning to feel very uncomfortable. Consternation flows from Peter, and amongst this chaos Judas rises from his chair, trying not to screech it and in a surreptitious way leaves the room. He looks ashen and disturbed. Judas' shadow falls on me and My King turns a lowered head my way and appears pained. My guts twist and turn cramping as I realise what Judas is planning to do. 

The meal finishes and the guests depart solemn and withdrawn, digesting the Kings words that he will not share another meal with them until its meaning has been fulfilled in the Kingdom of God (Luke 22:15-16). How I wish I understood.

Gethsemane

In the distance, I observe my King striding to the Garden of Gethsemane. Running in order to stretch my aching body after hiding for so long in the same position, I catch up. The disciples flop down, they appear tired after their meal. My King walks a stone's throw away and kneels. I creep nearer at once feeling like a thief stealing another man's thoughts as I hear my King's agonising prayers. The anguish seeps out of his body in sweat like blood dripping to the ground. His hands shaking uncontrollably, gripped so tight that the whites of his knuckles shine. 

Distress fills me and I pray, well I talk as I am not sure how to pray to God. Help my King. 

The arrest

From my vantage point, I sense movement, a crowd of soldiers and onlookers marching towards us clamouring for my King. He stands up as Judas approaches and with an awkward kiss identifies my Saviour. Bedlam results, swords clash, fists pound, feet strike, then one of the soldier's ears flies off, blood spurting everywhere. My King heals the wound and without a fight allows himself to be arrested.   

I want to shout "No" leave my King alone. But the words jam in my parched throat. Somehow I knew this had to be.

Silence reigns now moving like clouds in the moonlit sky. I have been deserted, where has everyone gone?

The glow of the torches in the distance summons me to follow, I need to know what is going to happen to my King. 

The denial

In the courtyard, soldiers have lit a fire, it crackles and spits, yellow smoke rising and there I can see Peter crouching down warming himself. A servant girl sitting nearby is addressing him, she appears to recognise him. Then another makes a remark and as time passes by, yet another. Three times. I look at Peter, then catch the silhouette of my King. As his face turns towards the fire He glances at his disciple, their eyes meet and shame catapults Peter from the courtyard, tears cascading freely like a waterfall in full flow. 

As the soldier's guard my King they taunt and blindfold him hurling insults, pushing and poking with their spears, but all through it not a word emitted from his mouth.

I want to stop them, to defend my King.  But even through the blindfold, I discern his eyes cautioning me. I remember his prayer in the Garden "Not my will but yours be done....." 

     

This week is Holy Week a time to ponder on the events leading up to Christ's death and Resurrection. We too are on a journey not necessarily to the same grotesque end, but nonetheless to a place that requires sacrifice, forgiveness and love to walk there.  

Come and join me each day as I accompany Jesus on His journey.

God bless,

Margaret

https://www.facebook.com/MargaretKazmierczakAuthorBlogger/

www.margaretk.co.uk 

(Note: This is my expression of Holy Week, the order of events may have been a bit different.) 

   

Crucifixion the only way - Holy Week Day Four

Crucifixion the only way

Jumbled thoughts

My head is a jumble with all the talk last night. As the sun set the King revealed that he will be handed over to be crucified. How does he know this? I can scarcely bring myself to ponder on such a fate. The thought makes me feel sick, my body to tremble, I want to shout "no". I have just found him and my life has new meaning and direction. I can't bear the thought of losing my King so soon. 

A Prayer request on behalf of the King

I waited behind when everyone left the mount and cried. I prayed and pleaded for my King - don't take him away. Shattered from all my beseeching I staggered back to the house the King was staying in. All appeared quiet apart from some gentle snoring. 

Peaceful acceptance

I heard a noise, a shaky door squeaking as it opened. The silhouette of a man outlined by the eery moon stepped out. I leant flat against the wall, my heart pounding like an orchestral drum. But he sensed my presence and signalled me to draw closer. Without saying anything he enwrapped me in his arms and kissed my forehead. Instantly an overwhelming aura gripped me. From the tip of my head to my toes a new and exhilarating force penetrated my body. As my King released me his piercing eyes transfixed me. I saw sorrow and triumph at the same time. In my mind words formed - I love you. I gasped at the intensity and looked at the man in front of me, his demeanour victorious and vulnerable at the same time. Without warning an irresistible urge to sleep took over and peace ensued.

The next day

Awake and rested I search for my King and his disciples, but they have gone. The lady of the house points to Jerusalem.  I know he will be teaching once again in the Temple. Scrambling as fast as I can along the dusty road moving in and out of wagons full of wares and animals, I arrive, dirty and unkempt. 

A ruckus is in full flow. Soldiers and men arguing audibly, pushing and shoving one another. A man lies on the ground arms flailing, struggling to get up trying to avoid feet that tread on him as the fight intensifies. 

Trouble in the Temple

I ask a skinny young lad cowering behind a stall to explain the disturbance. His shaky voice expounds that a man in the Temple is stirring up trouble again. It had to be my King. 

The Temple was packed again, young and old craning to hear (Luke 21:37-38), as my King in full voice stood teaching the crowd.

The midday sun pierces down as my King emerges from the cold Temple.I track him to the Mount of Olives, observing the group chatting and enjoying one another's company. I do not follow further this time but leave them there to their intimate gathering. 






I know the growing discord in Jerusalem will heighten so I decide to stay outside the city walls....

This week is Holy Week a time to ponder on the events leading up to Christ's death and Resurrection. We too are on a journey not necessarily to the same grotesque end, but nonetheless to a place that requires sacrifice, forgiveness and love to walk there.  

Come and join me each day as I accompany Jesus on His journey.

God bless,

Margaret

https://www.facebook.com/MargaretKazmierczakAuthorBlogger/

www.margaretk.co.uk 

    

(Note: This is my expression of Holy Week, the order of events may have been a bit different.)  

Mayhem as King goes mad in Temple court

Eyewitness account

Last night I had the most wonderful sleep, dreams filled my mind of the triumphant entry the King made yesterday into Jerusalem. I had hunkered down close to the house the King stayed in overnight. I wanted to be near him.

The fig tree 

The King left early this morning with his friends, so I followed him at a distance. He must have been hungry, I know I was. On the road to Jerusalem, he stopped and appeared to be talking to a fig tree. His gesticulations implied a frustrated tone, I could hear something about a tree without fruit being useless, then it withered and died (Matthew 21:18-19).

The Temple

Their journey ended at the Temple. I stayed near to the group mingling with the heaving crowd. There were money changers everywhere, emphatically pronouncing their services. Animals bleating, birds screeching, deafening noises that added to the chaos. 

Chaos

Then the King exploded, he upturned tables scattering money in a blaze of anger. Animals frightened, scuttled from the Temple, knocking people over. Indignant traders yelled, trying to stop the mad man, pulling at his robes. But the King was too powerful. His abhorrence so apparent that no one could control him. Sweat poured off his brow, as he toppled the last table. From the depths of the King's stomach, an aggrieved compelling voice rocketed out above the crowd.   

My Father's house

“Get these things out of here. Stop turning my Father’s house into a marketplace!” (John 2:16)

There were some Jewish leaders nearby and they turned on the King saying, “What are you doing? If God gave you authority to do this, show us a miraculous sign to prove it.”

“All right,” the King replied. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”    (John 2:18-19)

The truth of the barren tree

Wow, this man knew how to stir up a hornet's nest. I began to see the significance of the fig tree. A barren tree that bears no fruit simulates a desolate heart that knows the right words but doesn't know the Truth. 

As I watched the King sit, weary with exertion, his hands covering his tears, I felt an overwhelming love for him. He knew, he just knew what was going to happen and his heart bled. 

This week is Holy Week a time to ponder on the events leading up to Christ's death and Resurrection. We too are on a journey not necessarily to the same grotesque end, but nonetheless to a place that requires sacrifice, forgiveness and love to walk there.  

Come and join me each day as I accompany Jesus on His journey.

God bless

Margaret

https://www.facebook.com/MargaretKazmierczakAuthorBlogger/

www.margaretk.co.uk

King enters Jerusalem on a Donkey - Read all about it.

The King enters Jerusalem on a Donkey

Have you heard the news? 

The King has entered Jerusalem on a Donkey. I mean, what is going on - a King riding a donkey? 

People were shouting and waving palms, it was amazing. Talk about making an entrance with a contradiction. I thought Kings rode magnificent horses. But then this is no ordinary King. 

A King who breaks the rules

We shouted Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! (John 12:13). It was crazy. People pushing palms aside to see, others laying them on the ground in front of the donkey. One man tried to touch the King but his loyal band of followers were tight around him. 

Boy, I love this man. He doesn't do things by halves. He is going to change things around here in a mighty way, I can feel it. If any King can save us it will be this humble man. 

A glimpse of love

How do I know? The King's gentle eyes captured mine as he passed. For a moment all of time stopped, the intense shouting dimmed and I felt gripped by His love. No army could conqueror a force so powerful and liberating. When his gaze released me I experienced a form of drunkenness, a hazy warmth washing over my entire body. Then I knew the truth - love would save us not swords or force.

The King's gentle eyes captured mine as he passed

The journey

This week is Holy Week a time to ponder on the events leading up to Christ's death and Resurrection. We too are on a journey not necessarily to the same grotesque end, but nonetheless to a place that requires sacrifice, forgiveness and love to walk there.  

Come and join me each day as I accompany Jesus on His journey.

God bless

Margaret

www.margaretk.co.uk

Advent Day Twenty-four

The labour pains are starting and what is going to be a challenging experience will be out shined by the Glory of our new King. As we wait for the baby to cry, may our hearts be open to the wonders of a new beginning.