G-41: Pulseless… September 12, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

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coffin

Dead … as a doornail.

Please, no mention of nails.

Ironic: a carpenter terrified by nails. Leave it to the Romans to murder a tree and use it to kill me.

Dead … that last frantic, frightened gasp for air as the brain dims away like a flickering flame.

Extinguished.

Then … yes, then a victim of cruel-cified. Very cruel.

Waiting to see if suffocation, heart attack from extreme pain or bleeding to death occur first.

  • Constantly cramping
  • Constantly thirsty.
  • Constantly bleeding.
  • Constantly … trapped.

Some watched. Some mocked. Some busied themselves earning their daily shekel.

A few mourners.

I prayed for Mission A and ended up with Plan B–a sacrifice to stupidity to end stupidity once and for all.

For here is the reasoning:

To gain resurrection, something must die. To die, someone must risk, by faith, that there is more. To believe in more requires a zest for life that despises death.

Yes, John, pull me down.

Mother, take the thorns from my head.

Joseph, carry me to your tomb.

I shan’t stay long.

Set the alarm for 6:00 A. M. Sunday.

I will wake up.

The good news is …

So will you.

 

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