STATION 9

JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME


What love was there to hold Him up as He slumped to the cold ground?
Peter crept along the procession not wanting to be found.
He watched His Savior face to dirt, slashed, and pained, as He stayed low.
‘Get up,’ in silence Peter screamed. ‘Dear Jesus, on must You go.’

Peter waited for miracles, signs from Lord to make things right.
Horror gathered in his sight with prophesy of last night.
Denial of precious Lord three times he had rapidly sworn
He then shed his tears, weeping wishes he had never been born.

Now Jesus on the ground, blood everywhere, three times on the soil.
Peter watched Simon lift cross with Jesus, muscles flexed, his toil.
He said, “That should be me holding Him up, oh why am I so weak?”
He kept his eyes glued to the scene, so pathetic, outcome bleak.

Peter stood with head held low, extreme pain from his misery.
Jesus had spoken truths then was punished, due to a decree.
With bitter tears Peter wished to run, to fight, aloud he wailed!
Three times the Lord had fallen, three more times that Peter had failed.

Three meant completeness, Peter thought as he heaved a tired sigh.
Once more through actions, not words, Jesus taught as He went to die.
For His death He foretold to disciples they now saw as true.
Peter wished for an attack, sword at side, an act for him to do.

Jesus rolled His eyes over the huge crowd, found Peter and stared.
Peter shook head in sorrow, Jesus took Peter’s pain, and shared.
Such a warmth now wrapped softly around Peter’s hurting heart.
Jesus closed His eyes then turned once more His walk to now start.

Determined Peter watched his Lord Savior start the march once more.
How much he wished that he had had will power the night before.
 Away from the street still scared to meet a guard to take him in,
He slouched along to be near Lord even with all of his sin.

 Hammer’s pounding, crucified Jesus, the noise when nails in skin.
Peter fell to ground, face in dirt like Lord. He cried from within.
“Three o’clock,” someone cried, “Death at long last,” Voice filled to replete.
Peter pounded on his chest for his Lord’s way was now complete.