Carrying Christ's Cross

Simon sensed something was wrong, even before he saw the procession.  By the time he saw it, it was too late to do anything. He saw a man, or what used to be a man, covered in blood from his head to his feet.  His back had been ripped open, and the skin looked as if it would fall off. 

As he was trying to figure out how the man could see with so much blood in his eyes, the man, carrying a huge cross on his back, stumbled to the ground, landing face-first, slicing open his face, both eyes, and knocking the breath out of him.    Simon grimaced as he heard the unmistakable sound of ribs breaking, courtesy of the Centurion's boot.

A soldier grabbed Simon and placed a sword across his neck.  "You can carry that cross for awhile."  It was not a request. Simon knew enough to stay out of a Roman prison. 

With little choice, he picked up the massive cross, and half-carried and half-dragged it behind him, for it was too heavy to lift.  He followed the Centurion without complaint, until they stopped and made the beaten and battered man pick the cross back up again. 

As he moved quickly away from the soldier he wondered if anybody would ever know what that man had done.   He doubted anyone would even remember the man, because crucifixions were a regular event in Rome.  He had no idea how different this one would be. 

                   Copyright 2009 Spotless Lamb Ministries International