Through His Father’s Eyes

This is a short story I wrote a few years ago, for a class in college. Thought I would share it...

I saw Him stumble as he paced through the haze of the garden. “Why,” my Son asked staring up at Me while His companions slept in the distance. The air was thick, I could tell He wasn’t able to breathe steadily, but I knew what He must do. I saw my only Son’s tears hit the mist beneath Him and I couldn’t help but want to take away this burden.

He continued to pace through the dim lit night with distress in His words. He spoke silently for only my ears. “My Father, if there is any way, get me out of this. But please, not what I want, only what you want.”

I knew this was the only way.

The crowd began to approach where He prayed. “Wake up quickly,” I heard Him say to the men sleeping. They stood in fear as the crowd closed in around them.

The moon shone on the men’s frightened faces, and the uncertainty was more than they could bear. The man called Peter pushed himself through to the front of the mob. Peter’s rage then turned on the men who had gathered there. As they tried to grab Him to take Him away, Peter lashed out and severed the soldier’s ear with his sword; it fell to the haze below. I knew his pride was too much for him.

“Put your sword away, for all who take the sword, die by the sword,” I heard Him say. I could tell He felt my strength.

The gang, which captured Him, now led Him to the Priest, where many civilians and leaders were now assembled.

The accusations against Him came spewing from every leader, every civilian. Two men began to shout, “He claimed He could tear down the temple and after three days rebuild it. This man is ridiculous to claim such things.”

It took everything within me to stay silent…this was too much for a Father to allow…

He continued to say nothing to their allegations. He remained silent, and then the Priest asked Him boldly, with a glare of disgust, “Answer me you fool! Are you the Son of God, are you Jesus of Nazareth?”

I nudged His heart, knowing He needed to state the truth.

“ I am who you say,” Jesus spoke quietly, never looking up.

The Priest was much too angry now. He lost his temper with the words spoken, which began what I knew He’d have to endure.

Many men and women spat at Him as they dragged Him into the courtyard. The torture, His pain would be much more severe now.

The Priest turned Him over to the Governor; I wasn’t sure if I could watch Him suffer. What would happen next was all too clear to Me.

The Governor began to question Him over and over, “Are you the King of the Jews?” “Are you?”

Their yelling I couldn’t bear any longer. I nudged His heart once more. His response would seal the reason He came.

“I am Jesus, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, just as you say.”

The Governor could find no fault in My Child; I knew he wouldn’t, but the people were shouting, ranting and raving for His death.

During the Feast for the Governor a prisoner, to be named by the crowd was to be pardoned. I knew Jesus wouldn’t be chosen.

The Governor then asked the people, asked them to choose between Jesus, who was a sinless man, or Barabbas, who was a rapist, murderer, and thief.

“Citizens, quiet please. Which prisoner do you want me to free: Barabbas, or Jesus, the so-called Christ?”

The crowd began to shout even louder than before.

“We want Barabbas, we want Barabbas!”

“Than what shall I do with Jesus,” the Governor asked, amazed by the people’s response to free Barabbas.

“Kill Him, nail Him to a cross,” the people shouted over and over.

“But what crime has he committed?” shouted the governor.

They yelled even louder now, “Nail Him to the cross, nail Him to the cross!”

When the Governor saw he was getting nowhere, he took a basin of water and washed his hands in full sight of the crowd, saying, “I’m washing my hands of responsibility for this man’s death. From now on, it’s in your hands. You’re judge and jury.”

His final hours were too close now, but I knew that it would soon be over. I waited, I sat in anguish, and my tears fell through the heavens, clouds, and then to the brittle earth. It was time.

The soldiers stripped Him and dragged Him outside into the courtyard. They attached his hands with metal shackles, welded to solid rocks and stones where blood had been spattered before. It was all too real at this moment…

He never looked up at the soldiers. They threw a red robe around Him, mocking Him, His flesh clinging to the fabric…and now, they handed Him the cross he would soon hang on.
He wavered from side to side as He walked to His death.

They arrived on the hill where they ripped the robe from His beaten body. The flesh came with the robe, as His wounds were still fresh. Then, they threw Him to the ground. His back broke in two places as the cross beneath Him crushed his bones as he fell upon it. The soldiers began to pound His flesh to the wooden cross where His blood was again spilled, His bones again broken, His death now imminent.

After they had finished nailing Him to the cross, they began to poke fun at Him, throwing dice for His clothes and robe with his torn flesh still attached. Above His head they had posted the criminal charge against Him: ‘This is Jesus, the King of the Jews’.

Alongside of Him, they also crucified two criminals. People passing along the road heckled, shaking their heads mocking Him: “You bragged that you could tear down the temple and then rebuild it in three days – so show us your stuff! Save yourself! If you’re really God’s Son, come down from that cross!”

I could have done it then, sent a legion of angels to His aid, but He looked up at me and His eyes told me to wait. My sorrow was unbearable. The heavens began to cry out…it was almost time.

He began to groan, tears streaming from His wide eyes. Then My Child cried out to Me, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”(My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”)

My tears began to fall more steadily now; people fled the hill where He hung with fear and uncertainty.

It was finally time…He breathed His last breath on earth…

My earth cried out for Him…the universe mourned His death…the earth shook with resistance to let Him go…but they would soon embrace His resurrection. Three days from then, the stone would roll away.

Why Him, you ask? It was the only way I could get to you, the only way for you to know my love. He was my Son. He died for you.

I feel like flying...

You know, I’ve often wondered how it would feel to fly…to let go of ALL inhibitions and embrace the open sky…It’s rather unfathomable, yes, but also, enticing!

Out of ALL creations, I think the sky is the most beautiful, the most vast in nature, the most mysterious…it’s an endless horizon…whether crystal blue or covered in ominous clouds, it’s this amazing, breathtaking picture…NOT to mention when darkness falls and the most amazing picture is right before our eyes…

Perhaps they are only stars, but they are perfection at its best, if only for a moment…it’s as if you can stare into space and visually, see the hand of God…He placed each star, right where He wanted it…He created them for you and I, so that even for that single moment, we can see something that we as humans, have no control over…

So again, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to fly…to see those stars up close and personal, to see their beauty...their awe and wonder, which I think, God intended them to have all along...