Love Bled Here

He stood in the stillness of that terrible night,
Alone, yet holding the whole world in His heart.
They chained His hands—those gentle hands
That once lifted children, healed the blind,
And touched the untouchable.
They struck His face—
The same face that had smiled at sinners,
That had looked at broken people and called them beloved.
Still, He said nothing.
Because love… doesn’t scream. Love stays.

They wrapped Him in a mockery of royalty—
A faded robe, a crown made of thorns.
The thorns dug into His head,
Each one a whisper of betrayal, of rejection.
Blood mixed with sweat,
And still, His eyes were full of peace—
Not the peace of comfort,
But the peace of someone who knew:
This pain is the price of love.

The road to Calvary was long and cruel.
Each step was a song of sorrow,
Each fall a deeper ache.
And yet, He carried on—
Not because He had to,
But because He couldn’t bear to leave us in the dark.
Every stone bruised Him,
But He turned bruises into blessings.
Every shout pierced Him,
But He answered with silence.
Love walked that road, bleeding.
And still, it loved.

On the hill, they nailed Him down—
As if trying to pin down love itself.
The hammer rang like thunder in the sky.
But He didn’t fight.
He opened His arms.
He welcomed the pain,
Because in that pain, He welcomed us.

The cross was high, but His heart was higher.
From that wooden altar,
He saw the people who had laughed,
The friends who had fled,
And all of us—
Wounded, wandering souls.
And He prayed:
“Father, forgive them.”

He didn’t wait for our apology.
He gave us His heart before we even asked.
That is love—
Not made of words,
But of wounds.
Not wrapped in comfort,
But clothed in sacrifice.

He could have saved Himself.
But instead, He saved us.

So when life feels heavy,
When you’re tired of being strong,
Remember this:
There is a God who fell too.
There is a God who cried.
There is a God who gave everything—
Just to say,
“You are worth dying for.”

And now,
The Cross is not the end of the story.
It is the doorway of love.
The place where sorrow became sacred.
The moment when love broke itself open,
So we would never be alone again.

Let your heart rest in that love.
Let your soul breathe in that beauty.
Because once upon a hill,
Love chose the thorns—
And in doing so,
Chose you.