John the Beloved

by Randy Conway

I am confused

My emotions surging

My emotions battling,

Battling for prominent position.

 

I stand alone,

I am surrounded.

I am stone,

I am liquid.

 

Anger rises

A rage builds.

Angry at the soldiers,

Angry at the Religious leaders,

Angry at Jesus,

Angry at God.

 

I never thought it would come to this

To die on a cross betrayed by a kiss.

For three years I walked with You

Your power could have stopped this

If You had wanted to.

 

Hatred comes;

Hating Judas,

Hating the crowd,

Hating the ones who did this,

Hating life.

 

These are not men they are beasts.

Is this the rising of the religious yeast?

How is it these men knew You,

These men heard You,

These men saw You,

These men killed You?

 

Fear continues to creep;

I’m afraid to stay,

I’m afraid to leave,

I’m afraid of the crowd,

I’m afraid of tomorrow.

 

 

 

I meditate upon Your words

In You we will have peace.

This is what I heard.

So hard to understand the things You taught

Standing looking at the cross.

 

Grief overwhelms;

Grieving for loss,

Grieving for the mother,

Grieving with nature,

Grieving with the Father.

 

Sorrow, such sorrow I cannot control

A wave of tears I cannot hold.

My body shakes with convulsion,

The earth shakes with eruption.

The shadow of the cross covers my face,

The shadow of God darkens this place.

 

Joy? Will it ever return?

Can grief turn to joy?

Joy in promises?

Joy in hope?

 

I remember,

“Now is your time of grief,

But I will see you again

And you will rejoice,

And no one will take away your joy” (Jn 16:22)