surviving the martyrs

It’s just another Jew.

    Oh God, oh God, oh God—why, why, why?

Better to let them have this one than to lose control of the nation.

    Why him, why . . .
            . . . my lover. . .
        . . . my father . . .
                    . . . my brother . . .
    . . . my hero . . .
            . . . my son . . .
    . . . why, God?

Let them think they’ve regained some control.

    Speak for me!

It was just a Jew.

    Defend my cause!

No one even knows his family name.

    Protectors of Israel—a lie!  Carry out the vengeance due to me!

It was quick.

I heard his screams.
            I heard his bones crunching, snapping, shattering.
        I heard the stones thunk against his flesh.
I saw the blood spurt up from his wounds.
        I saw the wild agony flashing in his eyes as he fell.
            I saw the glee on the faces of his murderers.
I felt the raw scream rise in my own throat.
        I felt the slap of a Pharisee, shoving me back from rushing in to save him.
    I felt the dust coating my tongue and throat as I sobbed my horror to the skies.
                I was there.
    I saw him, meek.
        I heard him, forgiving.
            I felt his spirit, shuddering, rise from his body
                        though they would not let me cradle him.
                    I watched him die
                                    slowly
                            agonizingly
                                     alone.

 No one cares.

   My life is empty.
            Who will care for me, protect me?
        Who will teach me?
    I want nothing else but to die, as he did—die and be with him.
                I am alone.
            I am angry.
        I am hurt.
            Who will hear me when I cry?

Stepping in will only stir up the embers of revolt.

    Why did no one stop it?  I saw them, lounging at the gates.  I heard them, shouting and mocking and goading and heckling and laughing.  I ran, begging, to them, needing help, but they shoved me back and shouted words I didn't know.
    I know they saw.  I know they heard.  I know they knew.  Why did they not stop it?

It was just another Jew.

    Is there a protector left for me, now that he is gone?
        I have been failed by all that was supposed to protect me—
                my priests
                    my teachers
            my government.
                    They all ignored my pleas.
            Does anyone hear me?
                Does anyone cry with me?
                    Does anyone care?

I do.

I am the LORD your God.

I hear your cries.  I know your pain.  I share your tears.

And I am here.

I am

the Helper of the orphan

a Father of the fatherless
a Judge for widows.

I support the fatherless and the widow.

I execute justice for the orphan and the widow.

I am here,

cradling you in My everlasting arms.

I will never leave you.
I will never forsake you.

I will never fail you.

I love you with an everlasting love.

I am here.

Trust Me.