Crucifixion of Jesus
Around five or six years ago on Easter Sunday, I had prayed to God or rather Jesus to take a glimpse of his crucifixion. I had not expected that prayer to be granted so easily, but it seemed that it was. Instantly as soon as I fell asleep, I opened my eyes and there I was, in ancient times. I was standing down the walk way as the guards were “escorting” Jesus to he execution on the cross. I could see every detail of the cross that was stricken onto his back. Men and women alike were yelling blasphemies, laughing, as well as throwing rocks and anything that they could find towards him with not regrets. Only a small sum of people could be seen crying and feeling sympathy for his soul.
I remember slowly walking a small distance behind him taking in the scenery and the atmosphere that the men and women whom were born to the town, created. Looking up to the sky, I could see what was once azure was slowly fading to a grayish cite. It took a vaguely short amount of time to reach the site in which he would be crucified. I could feel tears streaming down my eyes as I watched the site; his body being nailed to cross that he had to bare caring for hours on end. I was in the crowd that had instantly filled in front of him; The Divine One. I was within scarce touching distance from him. I could see every ounce of him. From the crown of thorns that was buried into his head as tears of blood streamed it’s way down his head, to the nails being hammered through his body into the cross. As I watched this, I could not bare it anymore, one because I could not deal with the reality of him dying and me being able to witness the entire ordeal, but for the more devastating fact of which, every bit of pain in which he felt, was my own. I could feel the whip beating again my bare flesh, to the nails silently being hammered in to my limbs.
As I began to feel theses things, I began to look into the crowd of which I was in the center of, and I noticed that I was nearby a women whose eyes were drenched in tears. In an instant, I knew that this was Mary, the women whom had given birth to him. She looked at me with innocent eyes that could bore anyone’s eyes. It was as if she was speaking telepathically to me saying “Why was this allowed to happen, tell me; why?!” I stared at her for a short amount of time until I saw her slowly go near his dying form. I willed myself to follow her until I was standing in front of him. It was then that a guard neared us. He asked who we were and she told him that she was the one who had given birth to him. He then looked towards me and she looked as well and told him that I was family, therefore letting us pass to look at the body that lay nailed to the cross.
As I neared, I could see the other two who were facing their death as well upon the cross. They were still alive, but barely. I felt great sympathy for both, but did not know why. It was then that I saw that Jesus was gone; dead, only his body remained. Looking up to the sky, I could see the once clear blue sky instantly grow dark as if night was coming or if a strong storm were brewing within the clouds. Lightning stuck all around the area frightening the people around which caused many to fear for their lives. The lightning seemed to have a mind of it’s own fore it struck down buildings of great importance to the people. I do remember seeing one large building or temple being struck and fire erupting from the strike. The lightning did not strike Jesus, but merely everything that was around him.
That was the end of the dream. I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic. Fear was evident in my eyes, it was something that I could feel coursing through my veins. I could still feel the whips hitting my flesh. And from the entire night, I could not get to sleep. So I lay there until it was time for me to go to school. I could still remember being in a daze throughout the entire day.
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01-05-2008, 01:17 AM
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