I was simply following orders.  I’d done this many times before, but this was different.  Now an innocent man, stood before an angry mob who demanded His death.

As I raised the lash for the last time, He was nothing but a mass of torn flesh.  Each slap across His writhing body was accepted willingly.  Any other person would be near death by this time, but He endured more than His share of punishment.

One of my fellow soldiers wove a crown of thorns to press into the man’s head.  Another covered His bloodied shoulders with a cloth made of purple.  They mocked Him as the King of the Jews.  Later they would cast lots over His garments.

I was the one who pierced His hands and feet.  It was the way Rome carried out corporal punishment.  It turned me inside out, but it was my job.  As each hammer  blow crushed through muscle and tendon, He looked at me with eyes that would continue to haunt me for the rest of my life.

That glance was one filled with utter pain, yet it also held an appearance of mercy.  It was as if He knew this wasn’t my choice.  Without speaking a word, I knew He wasn’t blaming me – He was forgiving me.

I watched as He suffered on the cross. I heard the words He spoke – words that made no sense at the time.  The crowd dwindled to only a few when He took His last breath. The sky filled with a darkness uncommon for that time of the day and the earth shook.  I saw two men carry His body away to be buried as a small group followed.  

My mind was cluttered with feelings I had never before experienced.  I didn’t know this man and still felt a connection to Him.  His eyes – so filled with compassion for me as He suffered.  

I carried out my orders.  The man was dead and I would never be the same again.  


As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on
This entry was posted in daily devotions, Faith, God and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to THE CENTURION

  1. This gave me goose bumps to read. I am sure most of them who partook in killing Jesus were never the same again.

    Liked by 1 person

    • says:

      Thank you from the bottom of my heart! This is precisely what I want people to take away from these posts. To be reminded what our Lord suffered for us and how He changed so many lives.


Comments are closed.