“Not My will but Yours be done,”
Christ proclaimed in Gethsemane’s garden,
Solemnly knowing what He had to do,
To purchase the sinner’s full pardon.
His sweat became mingled with life-giving blood,
On that night of most anguished prayer,
His friends fast slept from weariness,
Though Christ had told them beware.
The crowd pressed in with weapons and swords,
To bind the One truly free Man,
They thought it was they who were in control,
Unaware of God’s purpose and plan.
They approached Him by cover of darkness,
Sinful hearts filled with evil intent,
Bent on destroying the sinless Man,
Who through grace and by mercy was sent.
They called out, “We come seeking Jesus,”
His reply in return, “I Am,”
Caused all to fall down in confusion and fear,
At the power of God’s Passover Lamb.
Christ could have chosen much differently,
Mighty angels stood by to defend,
But by drinking the bitter and deadly cup,
He knew sin would lose all in the end.
A Christian poem by: Mark Tinjum — February 29, 2008