Greetings Dear Reader,
Almost every Thursday evening I have the joy of having
dinner with my Son and Grandsons. It
really is an oasis in my week. I love
them all so dearly. Some nights I even
pick out something that everyone likes.
Tonight was such a night.
All through our lovely time together I pondered just how
blessed I am to have these men as my companions. My Daughter was able to be with us tonight
as well. She also enjoyed the repast I
offered.
The moment was not lost on me. Here I was celebrating a meal with my family
on the night we commemorate Jesus sharing his final meal before his death with
his closest friends. He knows what is to
come. He is aware of their fear and
failures. He is fully aware of the cost
of Passover.
The Lamb of God blesses the lamb. He shares the bread. He drinks the cup. He makes his promises. They sing a song and he takes them to the
Garden to pray and watch. He knows what
is coming. He has to be at the garden so
the Judas and the soldiers can find him there.
He is there to make the final commitment to the death, the burial, the
redemption.
In the novel Chronicles
of Thanatos the Reaper I try to capture this moment:
As he kneels praying, great beads of sweat mingle
with the tears flowing from his eyes.
The tension of the moment causes his pores to overload. A single drop of blood from a burst vessel
slides down his brow and then his nose.
It hangs there for a single transitory moment until a sob vibrates the
drop loose.
The Son is kneeling in the garden. In the few seconds of time it takes the drop
of blood to travel from face to ground, all of history is changed. Redemption has received her down payment and
the earth is screaming. The scream is
the sound of salt generously poured on an open wound. Healing can be as painful as poisoning, and
much more costly.
It is in this that we must writhe and rest. It is in that first drop of blood in the Garden
of Gethsemane that we see that time is truly full. We see that God’s blood is what it will take
to win the day. I must not waste one precious
drop, even the sweat mingled ones when I am busy judging the Apostles. It is all for me. It is all for you Dear Reader. This passion is because you are worth dying
for.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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