Christ walked to Calvary alone,
Each bone-jarring, bruise bumping yard,
Every pain-plodded inch.
And wicked faces carved from stone
Made even Jesus flinch
And search for company to cheer
The garden-hammered promise, sealed
With blood soaked, bleeding tears.
Though gutsy – God – still longed to hear
The gratitude of those he’d healed
A drug to numb his fears.
Is my blood pumping heart a fool
To keenly fill my veins, and beat
The body on it’s way?
Perhaps the glands that coward cool
And chicken sweat away spare heat
Should early close today.
The body needs each tiny cell
Each worn out ear, each limping limb,
Each thinning greying hair.
And when I find myself in hell
And I need Christ and you are him,
I hope that you’ll be there.
I’m not afraid. Though service scares
The Christian in the garden
Who cries just like his Christ;
Who, though he doubts, the threat still dares
His God-lost heart to harden.
Thus, all is sacrificed!
Call him gutless? No! let him wear
His need for Christian prayers and friends
A medal on his chest;
And pray we learn like God to care
For those whom Satan gladly sends
Gethsemane to test.