Gethsemane: A Good Friday Poem

 Abba Father , everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of suffering away from me . Yet I want your will to be done , not mine. The cup was bitter to the taste. Difficult to swallow. Yet you did. All for love, You are not a Savior unaware of anguish. You are well-versed in the chronicles of despair. You said, "Keep watch with me." My soul is overwhelmed to the point of death. You are not ignorant of grief. You know it intimately. Sorrow shrouded You in the garden of Gethsemane. The will of the Father led you there. For the sake of love, you forsook the splendor of your throne.

You left the perfect communion of heaven for the loneliness of earth. You know what it is like to be rejected, abandoned , and alone. You put on the robe of flesh. You paid the price for us. For Jesus it was your crushing that delivers healing. By your death we have life. You are not a Savior unaware of anguish. You said please take this cup of suffering away from me . Yet I want Your will to be done not mine. Suffering was embedded in your identity. Man of sorrows acquainted with grief. You teach endless lessons on how to suffer and suffer well. You endured the reproach of the cross so that we can partake in the glory of new life. For You, my Christ were pierced for my transgressions. You were crushed for my iniquities , the punishment that brought me peace was laid upon you and by Your wounds , I am healed. You drank all the contents of that cup so that I would not have to. So, when I am in my own garden of Gethsemane , when all I  see is darkness, may my prayer be as clear and honest filled with surrender. Crying, I want your will to be done, not mine. I know you understand, I know you understand. For you are not a Savior unaware of anguish. You are well-versed in the chronicles of despair. You hear every broken cry. You see every bitter tear. You are with us in our dark nights when we feel untouched by grace. You paid it all for us so we can have the joy of seeing you face to face. You are proof that weeping may endure for a night, but Joy will come in the morning. Joy is on the way.