I felt my heart begin to break when I knew Jesus and His Apostles had left for the Garden. The Apostles were uneasy. They sensed that My Son was sorrowful. He had warned them that He would be killed, but they did not believe. I fell to my knees with the other women and we began to pray. Jesus began to suffer in the Garden. He felt the weight of sin on his shoulders and satan was there to tempt Him again. Jesus was sorrowful beyond words. I could feel His sorrow in my heart. How he could bear the weight I do not know. I’ve never known such sorrow. He asked His Father to let this cup pass, but the Father withdrew. Jesus accepted His cup for love of us. His soul was at peace, but He knew what was to come. When they came to arrest Him, My Jesus identified Himself to the soldiers of the temple. They began to beat Him. When Peter tried to stop this by cutting off the ear of the soldier, Jesus reminded Peter that this what was meant to be. Jesus healed the soldier’s ear. The other soldiers were stunned. My Son was beaten and taken to both Herod and Pilate. My Jesus, My Beautiful Son! My heart weeps. My heart weeps when I see You. My precious Child. I love You!
The Scourging at the Pillar.
How could I look? Jesus did not look like Himself. His beautiful face was swollen and bruised. His eye was swollen shut. When asked about the charges, Jesus would not answer. Pilate tried to calm the crowds. He knew that Jesus did not do anything wrong, but he was afraid. He ordered Jesus to be scourged. My Son! My Son! You are the Son of God, but they do not know You! These are the people who were cheering You and calling You the Messiah. Now they are calling for your death. My Son! I am here. I hear the whips as they strike Your flesh. I feel the whips as they rip into Your flesh. I see the blood flow from Your skin. Your flesh is hanging in shreds, and they continue to beat You. The sear of the air on Your wounds brings tears to My eyes. My Son, how do You bear this pain? They want to kill You. Pilate did not order that. My God! My God! Protect Your Son! I am weak. How much more weak are You, My beautiful Child? At last, the beatings have stopped and the soldiers are giving You back Your clothing that is soaked with your blood. You can barely walk. You lost so much blood! If they only knew how much You loved them! I see You looking at me. I am here, My Son! I am here. Be strong! I. am. here.
The Crowning with Thorns
I didn’t realize they could find new ways to torture You. Now, they are mocking You? They are laughing at You and calling You the King of the Jews? My Son, You are a King. You will not show them, but You continue to pray for them and forgive them. My Son, You are My God, too.
Does Your love know an end? Your love for us is unending. I am with You as you walk this road. I am here. What is that in the soldier’s hand? Is that supposed to be a crown? I thought the mocking and the spitting were enough, now they are going to crown You with thorns? How can they torture Love? Oh, my Jesus! I don’t know that I can bear this! They have pulled Your clothes away. The bleeding has started again. Oh, your most precious blood hits the ground! They are giving you a purple robe? Oh, My Son! They mock You even more! They laugh. They don’t know. Yet, you pray for them, and You have forgiven them. My Jesus, Your love is beyond all measure. I die each time they harm You. I must forgive them as You have forgiven them. My Jesus! My Son! I am here with You.
The Carrying of the Cross
They have condemned You to die. Pilate was afraid of the crowd. They screamed for Your death and asked for Barabbas. You who have done no wrong. You who are Love. They screamed for Your death, and Pilate gave in. His wife warned Pilate to have nothing to do with You. She knows You. She loves You. I see her in the window weeping as Pilate condemns you to death. Pilate has washed his hands of You. He is turning You over to be killed. They drag You through the streets. You are so weak. How can You walk? Your body has been beaten and you’ve lost so much blood. My Dearest Son! They have condemned Love! They have condemned Love! I must forgive as You forgive. Now, I must watch You die. How can You carry the cross? John will get me closer to You. You must know that I am here with You! I will help You with Your cross. John will get me closer to You. Oh, Jesus, My Son, my heart breaks as I see Your disfigured face. I see Your flesh hanging from Your body. I see Your blood soaked garments. I see Your eyes, and You see mine. I cannot get close enough to help You. John will take care of me. Have no worries. I forgive as You have forgiven. My beautiful Son. You are love, and they hate You. They do not realize what they are doing. The soldiers have forced Simeon to help You. He does not understand the great graces You have given Him. He knows that You will die. You know that You will die. Even as the torture continues, You forgive. My Jesus, My Son, My God! I love You.
The Crucifixion and Death of Jesus
My Son, My Son. The nails have pierced Your Hands and Feet. The soldiers have allowed us to be closer to You now. There is no turning back. The soldiers continue to mock You. They are even casting lots for Your clothes which are stained with Your most precious blood. The Jewish leaders are screaming at You. They want You to prove You are God and come off the cross by yourself. My Jesus! How do you bear this pain? I am not sure I can bear this pain, yet You bear this without complaint. My Son, I do forgive them. You have forgiven them. You have promised one thief that he will join You in Paradise today. The other, You have offered the chance for forgiveness. He has refused You. My heart continues to break. I kiss Your feet. They are so cold and blue. You are shivering in the cold. You’ve asked for something to drink, but they give you a drink to numb Your pain. You refuse that. You are willing to take the pain of sin completely on You. My Son! My Son! My heart is broken. Yet, You are still my strength. Your breath is so shallow now. Your pain is so great. I dare not touch You for fear of causing You pain. I see Your eyes as You hang on that cross. I must touch You. It’s almost the third hour now. I see Your eyes closing. I hear You call out to Your Father. Jesus, He has not abandoned You, even if He did, I will not, but He has not abandoned You. You are one with Him. He feels Your pain, and He weeps. My Jesus! You have died. My heart breaks for love of You. The earth has quacked. The temple is greatly damaged. My Son, You are truly dead! Your body is cold and is beginning to stiffen. My Jesus! We will lay You to rest soon. Come back! Come back! I need You. My tears are like cold rain drops. The rain has been falling. Your body is washed. Your Father has washed His Son’s Body. You lay here in my arms. I do not want to let You go. John reminds me that he is now my son and that I am his mother. We must go. Once the Sabbath has passed, Your body will be prepared for death. There is very little time now. John touches my arm. We must leave. He weeps as I do. You are love. Your mission is finished. My heart is broken.
