On this Good Friday morning, I thought this prayer fitting…

BLESSED LORD JESUS,

Before thy cross I kneel and see

the heinousness of my sin,

my iniquity that caused thee to be ‚made a curse‘,

the evil that excites the severity of divine wrath.

Show me the enormity of my guilt by

the crown of thorns,

the pierced hands and feet,

the bruised body,

the dying cries.

Thy blood is the blood of incarnate God,

its worth infinite, its value beyond all thought.

Infinite must be the evil and guilt that demands such a price.

Sin is my malady, my monster, my foe, my viper,

born in my birth,

alive in my life,

strong in my character,

dominating my faculties,

following me as a shadow,

intermingling my every thought,

my chain that holds me captive in the empire of my soul.

Sinner that I am, why should the sun give…

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