He was begging him. This son was begging his Father. Not once did he beg, not twice. Three times he begged. On his knees, sweat and tears, he pleaded. He pleaded. Anxious and nervous, upset, scared, he was begging. "Daddy, please! Daddy, if there is no other way, I'll go. Your plans, not my own. I'll go, but Daddy, I don't want to. I am scared Daddy. Please, can anything else be done? Daddy, please!"
His daddy watched, pacing back and forth. His son, on his hands and knees, tears, sweat, pleading, pleading, pleading. Daddy was rubbing his eyes. He was pulling his hair. He was walking back and forth, throwing his head up, closing his eyes, thinking about what He should do, what he could do. His heart was breaking, breaking. He wants to grab his son, his sweet baby boy. He wants to hold him, to hug him, to love him and run away with him. But he can't. He can't. His heart is breaking, but He knows what has to be done. He knows he can't grab his little boy. This is the moment of truth. This is what his baby boy was made for. As badly as he wants to grab his son up in a hug, he can't. His son is pleading, begging. He is scared and sad, but his Dad just stands there. This is it. He loves his boy. His pride and joy, and his boy is pleading and begging him, but he has to stand and watch. His son, but Dad knows it's what has to do.
The knock on the door, and this is it. They kick it open. The boy's friends are there, and they try to fight for him, but the boy says no. He goes willingly- to his death. They beat him. They yell and hurt him. He takes it. His Daddy knows what's going on, but He has to let it. The boy is mocked and hurt, and the worst part is, His Daddy could have an army there to take his boy home in one second. If these perpetrators only knew. If they only knew who they were messing with, they might have stopped. The boy knew his reward would be great if he stayed. He knew he was saving more lives, that it was worth losing his own, but that doesn't make it easy to be mocked and beaten and murdered.
He died. His father cried. His son was hurting and crying out for him. A daddy and his son, and their perfect love, their perfect relationship. A father's pride and joy is his son. He watched his perfect son die- for us. If that's not love, I don't know what is.