I couldn’t contain it—
all the weight, all the wonder,
of what happened to You.
Your humility—
I can’t even wrap my heart around it.
Your love—
I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
You bore the cross.
You didn’t resist.
Unashamed, You hung there—
almost naked, fully exposed.
The scourging.
The beating.
The mocking.
The betrayal and abandonment.
The silence in Your suffering.
The vulnerability.
The weakness laid bare.
You never defended Yourself.
You never claimed what You deserved.
You took the bruises, the pain, the fear—
You took it all.
Alone.
Forsaken.
And the world watched.
They laughed.
They waited for Your last breath.
Yet still—
You remained quiet,
You endured.
Your humility, I couldn’t understand.
But suddenly—
my pride felt small,
my selfishness exposed,
my weaknesses uncovered.
My heart of stone began to crack.
Because You—
You forgave the undeserving,
You loved the unlovable.
And I am one of them.
The runner.
The wanderer.
The one who hides when life gets too heavy.
Yet You still love me at my worst.
You love me when my hands are empty.
You choose me when no one else sees me.
You save me—when I’m sinking in the pit.
You were forsaken…
but You never forsake me.
You died—
and through Your death and resurrection,
You breathed life into mine.
A life with meaning.
A life with purpose.
A life that is hard,
yes—
but held by Your hand,
and guided by Your grace.
Now I know:
My life is more valuable than anything,
not because of what the world sees,
but because of what You did on the cross.
So when life gets harder,
I don’t sink—I sing.
I don’t run—I rise.
Because I have more reason to praise,
more reason to live.
You gave Your life for the undeserving—
for a sinner like me.
And never would I fully comprehend this kind of love.
But now I know—
it’s not me.
Not my good works.
Not my strength.
Not even my will.
It’s always Christ in me.
