Sat, Apr. 19
... No more mystery, it is finally clear to me
Take the worst night of your life. The one where you were up for hours and couldn't sleep. Events that would change your life were happening far too fast to document or process at the time, and you can't understand how so much could be happening in such a short time.
You drive down the street in the middle of the night, from one destination to the next, and you wonder how so many houses can have their lights off and all the occupants sleeping so peacefully. This night, of all nights, is one beyond sleep. You don't understand how anyone else can be resting--your night is stretching out before you with no sign of ending, and even if there was the chance, there's no way you could sleep.
Your thoughts are in turmoil; you're feeling every emotion possible, and you're trying to savor each of the agonizing moments, because you know that after tonight, everything will change.
Your friends, the ones who are with you to lend moral supporr, are yawning, and you marvel at their ignorance. How can they not comprehend what's going on right now? How can they act like everything's normal? You appreciate their presence, and you know they care, but you know they're not feeling anything near what you're feeling.
This is the worst night of your life, and you have to live every moment in slow motion, waiting for morning to come.
And when it does, you watch the sun rise and know that, as bad as the night was, the day will be even worse. This is the moment of truth. This is the day when everything comes to a head, and all the tension that has been bubbling just under the surface comes to the top. This will be the day that will change the rest of your life, and you would give anything to go back. To skip ahead. Anything to avoid living every haunting moment of it.
The worst night of your life. The night you sat up and listened to the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock. The night when the hours took twice as long. The night you felt so alone and betrayed. The night you look back on and still don't understand how you made it through.
This is that night. A week ago, they were on top of the world. Twenty-four hours ago, they were napping in the garden while Jesus prayed, and tonight they're sitting awake in the fear and agony of a murdered friend.
I can't even imagine. I can't imagine the disciples' pain, fear, shame, anguish. More than that, I can't imagine Jesus'. I can't imagine that night. I can't imagine all that went through his head, and I wonder what his heart was screaming. I wonder if he wanted to be a little boy again, somewhere far away from the pain of the night. It was what he came for, but I can't help but wonder what kind of thoughts went through his head.
This was that night. The longest night of anyone's life.
infinite || abyss
posted at 2:35 a.m.
