One Disciple on Crucifixion Friday: A Soliloquy
I wasn’t there—when the sky cracked open and the earth groaned beneath the weight of what it witnessed that violent day. I wasn’t there. I ran. I hid. I let fear throttle the breath from my chest while the one I swore to follow was nailed to splintered wood like an animal, his body a ragged ruin of torn flesh and exposed bone. Say what you will about loyalty—I lost mine somewhere between the first lash of the whip and the moment they rammed that cursed thorn crown onto his head. I should have been there. But I wasn’t there. Fear, not faith, took control of my steps. Read More
