Poetry

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I Was the One

I was the harlot who should’ve been stoned
I was the tax collector my family disowned
I was the Levite who passed by the other side
With no help for my neighbor, did I provide.

I was the woman with the issue of blood
The one at the well whose life was just...mud
I was the leper who was shunned and abused
He made me whole and not once accused.

I was the blind man, He gave to me: sight
I was the Pharisee, always thought I was right
I was the disciple who denied Him thrice
The one also who sold Him for a lowly price.

I was there in the mob who called out to….crucify!
Just give me Barrabas! was my angry cry
I was Pilate, who washed my hands of the blame
The fault is not mine! I tried to proclaim.

I was the soldier who spat upon His face
I mocked and laughed at His humble disgrace
Then I nailed His hands to that Roman tree
Not once considering He was doing this….for me.

I was the one…..responsible for His death
The depravity of my sin….takes away my breath
He didn’t condemn me, but quietly took my place
Then all of my transgressions He began to erase.

I am the one for whom He offered Himself up
He drank my sins; and more, from the bitter cup
Won victory o’re my grave, defeated my death
The wonder of it all…...still....takes away my breath.

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