With a hammer in one hand and a nail in the other, I waited, body heaving, sobs rising up in gasping breaths. “Please don’t make me kill my Jesus!” I silently screamed as the moments passed. And when at last I pounded that wretched nail into the rough wood the hammering thundered in my head and the tears streamed down.

Traumatized, I turned to the communion table.
The bread – his brokenness in exchange for yours. Take, eat. 
The cup – his blood that washes away your sins. Drink.

Quietly, from deep within, I heard singing, as if a puppeteer were pulling together the strings of many hymns and bringing to life a whole new song:

Love and sorrow
flow together
from a wooden cross,
nothing left of self
but love alone.
Blood of Jesus,
pure and holy,
spilled for Adam’s race
and calling to the Father
on his throne.

Love and mercy
flow together
from the heart of God,
“The saving work is finished!”
cries the Son.
He drops his head
in victory,
the sun goes dark as night.
Death is conquered
by the dying One.

Grace and mercy
flow together,
so immense and free.
They rap upon my heart;
I let them in.
My soul cries,
“Hallelujah!
Glory to the Lamb
whose sacrifice has freed me
from my sin!”

© Ginger Kauffman
April 4, 2015