Disclaimer: I am His and He is mine! This was an old piece I wrote for a contest last year; I never entered it. But I thought I'd post it here anyhow. Bonne lecture!
There was not and still is not an accurate word for what the man was feeling; agony is as close as anyone could come.
Affixed by iron spikes through his hands and feet to a rough tree of crossed wood, the man struggled to breathe. Pushing against the nails that held him, he forced his tortured body up to gasp in one more life-giving breath. That breath caught as splinters from the crossbeam embedded themselves in his raw, whip-marked back.
Forcing down a lungful of air he sagged back to his former position. The nerves of his hands screamed in pain at the strain put upon them by the dead weight of his body.
Blood was everywhere, his own blood, flowing from countless wounds. There was not a place on his body that was not abused in some way: whether bruised by the rod, broken by the lash, or scraped raw against the hard stones of the Jerusalem streets. The free-flowing blood stung in his eyes and pooled on his tongue. His lips dripped red with each labored breath. His ears were filled with the drip of his own blood falling heavily from the tips of the six-inch thorns driven into his skull onto his shoulders and further to the ground.
Below him, a horde of people added humiliation to his pain, mocking and degrading him. Their jeering and laughing rang in his ears. It seemed that no one but a few lonely huddles of people cared for the beaten, dying man being crucified this day.
But in spite of the pain consuming him, he did not fight or scream or cry like the poor souls writhing on their own crosses beside him. This man's eyes were glazed and unfocused. Though he was excruciatingly aware of the ordeal his body was going through, his mind was far away.
For this man was the Son of God.
Jesus of Nazareth.
And through the all-seeing omniscient eyes of God his Father he saw his children. His best beloved. He saw each of them individually and dwelt on their names. He saw himself in the near future laughing with them, dancing with them, and sitting down at his glorious table to eat with them. He knew that because of the sacrifice he made at this moment, the ones he loved best in all of Creation could and would live alongside him forever. Joy pierced through him at that thought. Yes, this momentary pain and degradation would bring joy not only to himself, but to those he loved. Because of the torture he now suffered, the black debt his beloved owed would be erased for all time.
Jesus could feel his human body giving way to the ravages it had endured. Pushing himself up once again he forced enough air through his raw throat for one last cry.
"It is finished!"
And so it was.
Paid in full.