I Watched Love Bleed: A Witness to the Cross
Every Stripe, Every Nail, Every Drop of Blood—It Was All for Me
I saw Him.
Not just with my eyes—but with something deeper. A knowing, a piercing awareness that shattered through the numbness in my chest. The kind of knowing that burns and heals all at once.
I was just one among the sea of people that morning. Dust clung to our feet, stirred by the restless motion of the crowd pressing forward, shouting, jeering, confused. The city was swollen with travelers for Passover, but this—this was no ordinary execution. This wasn't just another rebel being silenced. Something in the air trembled. Creation itself seemed to hold its breath.
And then… I saw Him. Bruised. Bloody. A man so disfigured He no longer looked like a man [ Isaiah 52:14 ]. His back was flayed open—raw meat under the brutal stripes of the Roman scourge. Each lash had torn Him deeper, ripping away what little dignity the flesh could offer. And I knew… every stripe—every savage tear—was for me.
He stumbled under the weight of that wooden beam. Splinters sank into shredded muscle, blood oozing down His sides, mingling with the sweat of relentless torment. He fell—face first—onto the stone. Soldiers barked curses, spitting on Him as they yanked Him to His feet. And still… He moved forward. Not driven by force alone, but by love. I could feel it. Every agonizing step up that narrow road was saturated with purpose—purpose that bore my name.
I wanted to look away. My stomach churned. My heart screamed. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. Because something inside me knew: I had to watch. I had to see what love looked like when it's poured out in blood.
They took Him outside the city gate, to the place of the skull—Golgotha. And there, like a criminal, they stretched His arms across the timber. I watched as they drove iron spikes through His wrists, the sound of the hammer ringing like judgment in the air. My knees buckled. He didn't scream in rage or resist. No. He looked upward—as if speaking to the Father even now—and gave Himself over. For me.
They lifted Him high, the cross jarring into the earth with a dull, bone-shaking thud. There He hung—bleeding, gasping, yet alive. And as I stood watching, He looked out across the crowd… and it felt like His eyes locked with mine. Piercing. Endless. I should have run. I should have wept and hid. But I couldn't move. Because in that gaze was not accusation. It was mercy.
He was not dying for His own sin. He had none [ 2 Corinthians 5:21 ]. He was hanging there for mine. For every lie I'd told. Every bitter thought. Every time I turned from the God who formed me. He bore it all—drinking the wrath I deserved down to the dregs. My rebellion. My shame. My guilt. It was nailed there with Him.
His breath grew ragged. The sky darkened unnaturally, a brooding silence fell over the land. It was as if all creation mourned. Then… He cried out: "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" — My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? [ Matthew 27:46 ]. My chest cracked open. He who had only known oneness with the Father was now tasting the full weight of separation—so that I would never have to.
That was supposed to be me.
And then… it happened. One last cry. One final exhale. And He gave up His spirit [ John 19:30 ]. The earth quaked. Rocks split. The veil in the temple tore from top to bottom. Heaven itself shouted: Access granted.
I fell to my knees. Tears streamed down my face, not just because of the horror, but because I understood… I had never been more loved. That was the moment everything changed. He died so I could live. He was broken so I could be whole. He was rejected so I could be accepted.
That cross wasn’t just a Roman tool of death—it was my redemption. His blood didn’t just stain the dirt—it washed me clean. And in that moment, staring up at the lifeless body of the Son of God, I knew—I would never be the same.
Relational Christianity and Identity in Christ
This was not religion on display—it was intimacy bought at the highest price. Jesus didn't die to start a belief system. He died to reconcile sons and daughters to their Father. You were never meant to observe Christianity from a distance. You were created for union with the One who hung on that tree for you. You are the joy set before Him [ Hebrews 12:2 ].
The blood of Jesus didn't just purchase forgiveness—it purchased a new nature. You're no longer defined by your past. You are not a sinner trying to be holy. In Christ, you are holy because He made you so [ Colossians 1:22 ]. Walk in that identity. Live in that freedom. Don't settle for anything less than full transformation.
Apologetics and the Defense of Faith
The cross of Christ is the most powerful apologetic ever displayed. No other worldview, no other god, no other system dares to claim what Christianity declares—that God Himself entered the suffering of humanity, bore its weight, and died for His enemies [ Romans 5:8 ]. That love is unmatched. That sacrifice is undeniable.
When skeptics scoff, point to the cross. When doubts arise, remember the blood. Truth isn't abstract—it's a Person, and He proved His love with nails. The historical crucifixion, confirmed by Roman records and ancient witnesses, cries out across time: this wasn't myth. This was the divine breaking into history to reclaim what was lost.
Humanity’s Cosmic Role and Redemption
At Golgotha, the curse was broken. The dominion handed over in Eden was reclaimed by a bleeding King. This wasn't just personal salvation—it was a cosmic overthrow. Jesus, the second Adam, succeeded where the first failed, redeeming not just humanity, but all creation groaning for freedom [Romans 8:21-22].
You were never meant to just survive this life. You were called to reign with Him, to push back the darkness, to walk as a vessel of divine authority and love. Christ's death was not the end—it was the invasion of a new kingdom. And you are an ambassador of that kingdom now.
Biblical Theology and the Supernatural Worldview
The cross is not simply theological—it is spiritual warfare in its most victorious form. On that hill, Jesus disarmed the powers and principalities, making a public spectacle of them [Colossians 2:15]. The unseen realm was shaken. Every demon trembled. Every throne of darkness crumbled.
The supernatural is not a fringe doctrine—it is the foundation of the gospel. From Eden to Golgotha to the empty tomb, the story is drenched in heavenly activity. And if He opened the grave, then nothing is impossible now. The veil is torn. Heaven has touched earth. And we are caught up in the redemption of all things.
This is your moment.
Don’t let the cross be a story you admire from a distance. Let it wreck you. Let it reshape your entire being. He didn’t endure every lash and every nail for you to live half-hearted and lukewarm. He gave everything—because you were worth everything to Him.
Now it’s your turn. Step fully into your new creation identity. Live crucified with Christ, raised in His victory. Share this gospel with fire. Let your life preach what words never could.
And if your spirit is burning right now—if your heart is stirred by this truth—take the next step. If you are not a Christian please read this article:
How to Become a Christian
Often we talk and talk about themes in the Scripture, stories, and how to apply them to our lives… but it is all for one purpose: To bring you back to the Father. Here is what it is all about.
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