A poem for Good Friday reblogged from Jessie Jeanine
My life is good from day to day
Everything appears to be going my way.
So, I have not a need for Christianity
I might call on God, but only in tragedy.
But what if that tragedy is my own?
A more convenient season has come and gone.
My opportunity then dies with my pride
And my salvation… forever denied.
What kind of message does that give His death –
The Lamb who was slaughtered, so I might live?
It is MY iniquity that stole His life…
His very last breath, as He hung there denied.
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