16 September 2006
This edition's thought comes in a different form than usual. Read on and reflect on what it means to you. And as God refreshes you, may you in turn refresh others.
Who Hit You?
Nothing to see, yet looking to the future;
Nothing to say, yet speaking volumes;
Waiting for the next round of a plan's design—
To take a life and make it into the vine.
Voices of contempt, of ridicule, of scorn—
These filled the room with sinister malice
As the commotion drew closer to him;
Revealing motives both distinctive and grim.
The separation would be far more painful
Than the beating upon chest, upon back, upon face.
The loneliness would hurt more than the intent
Of the gathered crowd's insults and spit.
"You're all knowing? Okay, who hit you?"
Came the taunt as a hand struck his bruised cheek.
The guard thought Jesus didn't have a clue,
But he knew. Yes, he knew.
Other blows followed, the gathered throng
laughing, jeering, mocking anew.
In the midst of the pain, a voice familiar yet new
Approached, punched, and yelled, "Who hit you?"
We weren't there—but we were there,
Our punches of pride, of money, of fame connecting.
He knew it, yet said not a word,
The cacophony of voices the only sounds heard.
Yet behind the blindfold, his eyes were ready
To meet death, and in the end, conquer;
For as the beatings led to hanging on a tree,
The question "Who hit you?" is answered, "Me."
"We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth."
—Isaiah 53:6-7 (NIV)
"We see for the first time when we do not look. We see actual things, and we say that we see them, but we never really see them until we see God; when we see God, everything becomes different."
—Oswald Chambers
