There is something in human nature that craves horror. Like moths drawn to a flame that will burn us if we get too close, or Icarus lured to the Sun on wings of wax, we will brave fire and ice so that we might see, bear witness with our own eyes.
And so they surrounded the wooden cross as His blood trickled to the Earth.
They had revered Him, even followed Him, but now they demanded His life. In silence they watched as the Lamb they'd chosen hung before them.
With utter satisfaction, they all looked on, they had to see, as He endured their stripes and took their sins upon Himself...with a love that they would never see.
