She stood there, wishing she could meet Him. He had something about Him that was enticing, like He could answer all her life questions. And she wanted those answers. But she’d never get them. He was like any other religious man, well known and busy with their holy work. No time for individuals. Just crowds.
Except, He was different. She couldn’t pin Him , like He didn’t come from here. He was natural. yet alien-ish. Religious, yet had reached out to the least of these. She was no fool. She might be a woman, but even she knew you didn’t associate with the lepers outside the city. She had followed Him. With her own eyes had she witnessed Him heal an elderly woman that was at death’s door moments before. Of course she didn’t share this with anyone. Not even her betrothed. What would they think? She had deliberately left her duties. It was a shortcut, she told herself. There was no harm done. Yet she had been alone and her family would of accused her of being too interested in his works. The word, “Follower” would have easily been on the tips of their tongues. She couldn’t be afforded to be cast out. She struggled to know more, but what was it worth, if He didn’t even know she existed?
She gazed at Him once more.
Her trance gone at the shouting of people’s cries. “Kill Him! Kill Him!” Her eyes riveted to the fists slicing the air. There were thousands. The sun’s heat beat down hard, and she could only imagine it was punishment for the hate of this man. It didn’t make much sense to her, but it felt right. She wiped sweat from her brow. What did this one man mean to these people? He was harmless. Had they not already proved that? Or was there more, indeed, to fear?
She looked down at her dusty feet and sandals. Maybe it was her own bitterness toward these people that caused her such strife. Maybe the despisement of a people she had grown up with, lived with. A culture where rules were strict and freedom constrained. Where love felt more like religion than a Savior. Wasn’t that what this man, Jesus, was? He claimed to be a Savior. She had gazed for hours into his eyes when he preached. His voice soft and resonant. All she saw was love. She traced it every time to her heart, for that was where his eyes seemed to pierce her. Like He knew her. Like He loved her. In that split second, she could swear without a doubt that it was a love she never knew. As if she had never known what love was before. He penetrated her soul, and that was why she stood there, hard, rigid, defying secretly every human around her. She would not admit to them that she rather follow someone unknown, but who infused in her an alive spirit.
She impulsively stepped forward. Nudging her way through the crowd, uncaring about the judgeful eyes and jabbing blather. She stumbled to the front of the chaotic uproar.
The moment slowed down.
In hands she imagined nails coming down to thrust into his flesh.
Jesus stumbled with the cross.
“No!” Her voice echoed in her heart.
The guard’s sword sliced down on her side.
His eyes went wide. The mistake evident.
Jesus reached for her body.
He pierced her eyes. Permeated her soul.
“Love...you’re what I’ve searched for.” she let out.
A tear burned down his face.
“Yes, I who love you.”
Her dazed eyes noted the cross. She touched his bloodied face.
“You will die.”
“Let there be no doubt in my love.”
She wilted in his arms. Eyes glazing over.
“You’re the love I’ve searched to save.” (<Jesus said)
