Wednesday night, while in prayer before service, I saw a vision of Christ lifted up. He was nailed to the cross, blood streaming from his hands. The cross was picked up and quickly raised to a vertical position, and inserted into the hole dug in the ground for the purpose of holding it there. He was jerked. The only thing holding him was those nails. The blood spurted out. When the cross was dropped into that hole like a fence post, the blood spurted around the nail holes again. It was the most cruel and horrible thing I have ever seen.
How did I see all this so clearly, you ask? It was a vision from God, and although it only lasted a few seconds, I got a good close-up look. You see, I was only a foot or so away, on the right side of the cross. I had a ring-side seat, as it were, except that I was standing. You see, I was doing work at that moment. I was lifting him up! I was crucifying Jesus.
I strained to lift him up, along with many others. I exerted all the strength I could muster. I did every thing I could to kill this man who called himself God. You see, I was trying to be my own god, and I couldn't let this other man be my god for me. Sin? I had commided no sin! As my own personal saviour, I could define sin any way I wanted, and I was not about to define it in a way that made me guilty of it.
But guilty I was in God's eye. I am a failure at being my own god, my own personal saviour. I am unable to save myself. I need the God whose name is Jesus. I need the God who made me to save me.
2:14 Therefore the flight shall perish from the swift, and the strong shall not strengthen his force, neither shall the mighty deliver himself:
2:15 Neither shall he stand that handleth the bow; and he that is swift of foot shall not deliver himself: neither shall he that rideth the horse deliver himself.