Good Friday

Am I a stone and not a sheep

That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross,

To number drop by drop Thy Blood’s slow loss

And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved

Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;

Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;

Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon

Which hid their faces in a starless sky,

A horror of great darkness at broad noon–

I, only I.

Yet give not o’er,

But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;

Greater than Moses, turn and look once more

And smite a rock.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Ah! When we cannot find affection for Christ’s sacrifice, is it then that he picks up the rod of pain and weakness? Then, when struck with these unpleasant things, I find I need Him, and cannot survive alone, and my tears begin to flow in gratitude.

10 thoughts on “Good Friday”

  1. I’ve copied off these poems so I can enjoy them again next year. I wouldn’t mind if you continued to share favorite poems.

    1. Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed them. I don’t know if I could keep up a steady stream, but I will give it some

  2. This poem… this is my second time coming across it in the past few weeks. It’s something I struggle with… to allow myself to deeply ache and truly recognize what Jesus did for me. I want to understand, but I’m afraid that I am far too often a still and silent stone. I love that the poem gives permission to ask Jesus to help us recognize His sacrifice. Sometimes it just seems like too much to ask for… I mean, He gave His life for me, and now I’m also asking Him to help me fully appreciate that? It doesn’t seem right. I think He is teaching me to be humble enough to accept His beautiful and never-ending gifts. Thank you for sharing this poem!

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