He rode in and heard countless shouts of praise from lips that would turn to hurling hatred in a matter of days.
He sat down to eat and recline at the passover dinner with friends who would, "run away", sell him, and deny knowing of His existence.
He washed the feet of said "friends" not only as an example to us, but a gift to them.
He prayed with such intensity that blood mingled with sweat as He pleaded with the Father...as again said "friends" slept.
He, with a troubled heart, calmed an impulsive Peter, healed a severed ear, and walked away to His death.
He answered honestly with kindness to the questions being thrown around Him.
He looked into the faces of the men who mangled His body and knew He was doing it for them.
He carried His cross knowing that He was carrying that burden to bring us to the Father.
He was pierced, stabbed, mocked, taunted, murdered for me and you and everyone else.
He cried, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" so that we don't have to.
To me, the costs seem huge. But, He paid them all. I can't deny the love of my Savior.
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