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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Cross (as in the Cross of Christ) (08/17/06)

TITLE: Foot of the Cross
By Angela Logsdon


The sky shakes with fear and anger, turns the color of death. The earth growls and moans its dirge as it sways back and forth lamenting with such agony; it splits in two. Men, women and children scatter like dogs afraid of what may befall them if they stay on this hill. Tossed violently to the ground they scamper away into the darkness that has consumed the day.

I stand frozen in bewildered awe before the middle cross. Three men died this day, but one had such kind eyes. Though closed now, I recall them baring such peace. He looked at me with such consuming love it overwhelmed me. His eyes spoke a multitude of words and I heard every syllable. “I know you. I know more than just your name. I knew you before your conception. I know where you have been, the things you have done. I know what you can be and where you will go. I hold your future and you in the palm of my mighty hand. Fear not this day, but embrace it as I have.”

My mind races beyond my comprehension at what I have witnessed this horrendous, yet glorious day. I lack understanding, my thoughts whirl like a twister inside my head. How could he endure all that was done to him? Such cruel and demeaning things heaped on him with relentless force. I could hear the demons shout with glee as they slithered and hissed all around this God-forsaken town. They spit their venom on him, called him harsh names, mocked him and tore the flesh from his bones. Such hatred they had for this peaceful man.

I feel the electricity of a threat in the air. A threat on the verge of victory waiting to step out into the spotlight and claim ultimate superiority over all that lives, breathes, and thinks. Threat waits anxiously as blood trickles down the executioner’s wooden conduit. The task finished. His body lowered, wrapped, and carried away.

I remain at my station just to the right of his cross. Choke back tears streaming down my flushed face. How could this be, how could this have been allowed to happen? My mind tries to reason it out, to no avail. It makes no sense to crucify an innocent man, who showed mercy to those undeserving. His final words ring out a lasting echo in my ears, my mind, and my soul. “Forgive them; they know not what they do.” As he looks into the eyes of death, his face still shines with peaceful glow.

Each breath I take charged with a mystery beyond words. A mystery conceived before time itself. A plan, a masterful plan thought out in intricate detail by the most brilliant blue print designer; a way of salvation, a way of redemption for all who will believe and accept the master builders plan.

Materials needed; one tree, three spikes, one hammer, rope, cat-o-nine tails, crown of thorns, and a willing sacrifice.

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Member Comments
Member Date
Kristi Wood08/27/06
Powerful imagery. Not sure I could buy a Roman guard's ability to sense the demons and the Threat and the mention of a blue-print a bit of an anachronism. But I liked the wrap up list of materials to build salvation. Very cool.
Patrick Oden08/28/06
I don't know if this was your intent, but I feel like the next bit of dialogue from this character would be, "Truly this was the Son of God."

You enter into the thought process of a centurion who we don't encounter except for his presence there. Something must have been going on in their minds, and like your initial emphasis on Jesus' eyes.

Your ending, for some reason, brought to mind Rod Serling's wrapups on the Twilight Zone. Which I like.