I was dying.
Wasn’t even trying to survive.
I was fading and withering away as I lived.
And I didn’t even know.
Didn’t know such things are still relevant today.
About what Jesus did before I even came to be.
So ignorant.
How foolish and stupid I was to think I deserved and earned this love.
I didn’t care about him.
What he did.
I didn’t seem to know his love was so deep.
He died. For a criminal like me.
He knew me.
And I didn’t even know him.
Or recognised who he was.
I never even knew him before I was born.
We stood in front of the angry crowd on that day.
they demanded to free me.
And they let me live.
Jesus died.
For me.