The Pain in My Heart

 

The Pain in My Heart

The pain in my heart is the same as the pain

Of a father whose son will look not at his face.

The fact that my sufferings all were in vain

Is a thousand times more than the pain I then faced.

 

What, for the love of His son will a father do

More than to lay himself at your feet, dead?

Is there a love of more kindness today than

The love that forgave all His murderous fiends?

 

Why, my dear son, will your eyes open not?

When did thy heart ever alter to stone?

When did my soul filled with love for thy sake

In a thousand years ever leave you in lone?

 

Answer me, son, let my ears hear your lies,

Face me, my dear, with your pile of deceit,

Puncture my heart yet again, if you wish,

With the sword of a hatred I long to delete.

 

The piercing of nails and the beating of whips,

Shall never come close to the pain I now feel

The pain in my heart is much more than the pain

Of a father whose son has forgotten of him.

This is a poem that I wrote a few weeks ago. Our dear Lord Christ is aching in His heart. We think that He suffered enough on the cross and is now living happily in heaven when the fact is He is crying in pain of the rejection of His children.

He died  for us. And yet millions of people are out there that think of Him as a myth or story that never happened. He suffered the beatings of a thousand whips with thorns attached which tore His flesh apart. He, the King of Kings, suffered humiliation and was spat at and

He DIED for us. And do we ever think of His great love?

ridiculed by gentiles.

His hands that have healed thousands and feet that many have held themselves not even deserving to touch, for He is the Holy Son of God, were pierced with huge iron nails and He was thus hanged on the cross to die amidst thieves.

I can’t start to think how selfish and ungrateful we are. When Jesus is thinking of each one of us every second and talking to the Father for us, is there ever a day in our lives when we spend every second of the day thinking of how much Jesus loves us?

I know there isn’t. I myself have sometimes forgotten of Him, but later I come to Him and repent. I cry out my wrong doings before Him, and that is what gives me peace of mind- His forgiveness. Even His own disciple Peter betrayed Him three times, but he cried in repentance afterwards, and Jesus made him a great apostle for all time.

*Please do not use this poem without my permission. Thanx! 🙂