Sometimes I wear a cross
On a chain around my neck
A pretty cross stiched bookmarker
Marks a chapter in my Bible.

Printed in my bible
Is an artist's illustration
Of Jesus on the cross
An artist rendition
Of the Crufix
Is hung upon my wall
In honor of my devotion
Of the Savior's great sacrifice
To save those who were lost

Today it was brought to my attention
How those images of the cross
Are all so unreal

In reality do I really want to see the face of Jesus
When he hung upon that cross
For his face was ugly and bruised and bleeding
Swollen and deformed from the beatings
And the hammering of the nails that were
Drove deep within his skull

He was beat beyond recognition
Even his followers could not recognize his face

He hung there on the cruel tree
Sweating great drops of blood
Mingled with the saliva of those
Who spat upon him
What little clothing he wore
Was stained with blood
And bodily fluids

Yet with parched swollen and bleeding lips
And the taste of blood within his mouth
He cried "Father forgive them,
For they know not what they do."

As the odors of the rancid dried blood
Penetrated the air
And darkness fell over the land
Jesus's heart reached
Out to all mankind
Thinking not of his own needs
While his life's blood
Drained away
He forgave

As his flesh was tearing
He fulfilled his mission
Giving God his full submission
In his last breath
He cried "It is finished"

The price had been paid

Is it enough to hang a cross around my neck?
Is it enough to read my Bible?
Is it enough to hang a Cruifix on the wall?
Is it enough to say a prayer?
Is it enough to attend church?
Is it enough to put some offering in the plate?
Is it enough to do without?

What is enough?