Friday, October 16, 2015

I Pierced the Side

Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a lance, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.”

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

My heart knows that He is the Lord.  My mind knows that I have no right to even draw near to this God-man of love.  I see this man and how He loves; fully, no matter the consequences…specifically, even through rejection…humbly, although He is the Anointed One…and I’m afraid to let Him know me. 

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

I encounter this man on many roads, and with many companions.  In these moments He turns His gaze on me, I can’t help but weep.  The tears that I shed beg the question, where should I go?  Countless times the Lord has said, “Come and follow Me” and countless times I have said, I know a less bumpy road we could take.  At those words, I step away from Him slowly but with a spirit of rebellion.  Why doesn’t He go my way?

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

I have seen Him perform miracles.  In the simplest moments I have seen the healing power of His presence.  I have watched many give everything for Him.  I have seen the broken hearted cry out in joy with their whole selves for no other reason than that He looked at them and loved them.  I know that He is a fount of love, but I can’t get too close.  I can’t let Him see my brokenness, even if that would mean healing.  I can handle this.

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus. 

Man has chosen to hate this God-man.  I don’t know why, but they’re calling for His head.  The many things even I, a lowly foot soldier, has seen raises many questions about the level of this man’s greatness.  But I am afraid.  I can’t argue with the others.  I don’t want to enrage them and turn them upon me.   I must join in their jeering. 

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

He was killed.  I just watched them take this Lord with the healing gaze, beat Him, spit on Him, and hoist Him up on a cross.  On the walk to His place of death He shed tears for the many He encountered.  He looked to me as a tear fell, and I knew that He was crying because of my choice to walk on my own path.  He was killed. 

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

I didn’t have a hand directly in that death; I could’ve written it off.  But as He hung there another soldier threw me a lance and said the words that still rock me to the core, “Finish it”.  I became angry with this soldier, angry with myself, and I took the lance and I slid it fast into this Lord…

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

Blood and water poured out upon me.  Those around me were weeping and screaming.  In that moment this Lord, this God-man became my Lord, my God-man.  I began to weep, and through my tear filled eyes, and through the wound that I had opened, I saw His Heart.  His Heart had flames surrounding it, and my own heart began to burn.  Immediately I knew what was next.

I am the soldier that pierces the side of Jesus.

I have fallen.  I have chosen wrong.  I have rejected my God.  Yet, by my piercing of His side, He has asked me to draw closer.  I hurt Him…and He wants to love me more.  He wants me to be His soldier.  Today I choose. 

I was the soldier that pierced the side of Jesus.

But today, I revel in the mercy that flows from His heart.  I am His soldier now.  Some days the path is rocky but I know that I never want to leave that burning Heart that I witnessed in the day I was furthest from Him.  He never forgot me and I want to learn to gaze with Love like He gazes upon me.  I thought I wasn’t worth love.  I hurt Jesus. But today we are blessed.  He speaks the words I know all too well, “Come and follow Me”.  He calls me to be a cause of the outpouring of His mercy.  Who am I to be in such union? 

I am a soldier for Christ.