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What parts of me was on that hill?

If we had been there standing

On that hill at Calvary,

Would we even have defended Him?

Would we have cried out to set Him free?

I fear we, too, would be like Peter,

To deny Him before the dawn. 

We might condemn Him like the others

Or with indifference just look on. 

Why would we be any different,

When we kill in the same way?

As we passive people look aside,

We crucify today.

We look past the grief of those we meet

Or drown out the cries for food to eat.

As indifference seeps into our lives,

We are a people who crucifies.

The nails are driven in deeper,

When only outward acts are good.

When my heart is like a white-washed tomb,

I drive more nails into the wood. 

Lord, You took all my sin upon Yourself—

I want my whole heart clean inside!

Please change this ugly Pharisee heart

To have compassion without pride.

And as I ponder Your great sacrifice,

I submit to You my will.

Jesus, I’m so sorry for

The ME that was on that hill.

Lord, may I also think of others

And the truth You long for me to see—

“As you have done it to the least of these,

You have done it unto Me.” 

-BP c. 2022

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