A Nail’s Point of View

There I was lying on the ground because some Roman soldier had kicked over the bucket I was in. Now all my five inch brothers who are driven into a person’s wrist during a crucifixion were mixed together with my seven inch cousins who are driven into the feet. As I lay there on the ground in the dirt on “The Skull” I could see a shadow cast from a person who was about to be thrown down on top of the cross beam. He sure was a bloody mess; I don’t know how He was alive enough to be crucified?

I felt the strong fingers of a Roman centurion wrap around my body. I detected my pointed end go into a man’s flesh and blood squirted out all over me. The most painful part of this whole process for me is when the hammer comes down and hits me right on top of the head. This pain is inconsequential compared to the flesh of a human wrist that I rip through with no regard. The hammer stopped, my pain was over but His was just beginning.

  I noticed some cousins of mine where tapped into a sign on the cross that read King of Jews. Why would they crucify a King? We were up in the air now and I had a great view of the crowds that were passing by this King. They were cruel hurling insults at Him, “He saved others. Let Him save Himself if He is the Christ of God, his chosen one!” These people were surly not His followers. If they were I wouldn’t want to rule His

Kingdom. We would be up here awhile the King and I suffering until He would die.  

There were two others hanging by us that day. One of them was very bitter yelling at the King. However the other was quite kind saying, “we are getting what we deserve but this man did nothing.” Then I heard him say the words, Jesus remember me when you come into your Kingdom. So the Kings name was Jesus. Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth today you will be with me in paradise.”

How could it be getting dark outside in the middle of the day? I had never in all my time as a nail seen such storm clouds approaching. The next three hours seemed like an eternity. The blood from Jesus was flowing less and less. There was a stream of it that slowly trickled to the bottom of the cross than onto the ground.  It was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon and He spoke, “Father into your hands I commit my spirit.” As soon as the last word left his month he breathed his last breath. Now when the centurion saw what happened, he praised God and said, “Certainly this man was the Son of God.”

It was much later when I felt a crowbar dig into my body. There was a person tugging me out of the Kings wrist. He was collapsing into their arms. I flew to the ground and noticed them wrapping Jesus in  linen burial strips

with the aromatic spices. Now at the place where Jesus was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden was a new tomb where no one had yet been buried. They placed Jesus’ body there. A young man was starting to gather up all of us nails and put us in a bucket. It was probably a carpenter that would use us later in another project.

I felt my body being once again driven into a door jam. It sure was a nice looking room but no one was here at the moment. Around night fall I could see a bunch of men gathering for what looked like a meeting. They shut the doors and locked them so I had a better view now. All of a sudden Jesus the King appeared right before their very eyes. It surprised me as much as it surprised them. The last time I had seen Jesus they were pulling me out of the dead Kings wrist, how could he be alive. Surely it was a ghost and not really him.

Jesus stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to one of the men, “come and put your finger here and examine the hole in my wrist that the nail made. It was his right hand that he stuck out for this man to examine. I was the one who made that hole. It was Jesus, he had risen, He is surly a King. Then I heard Him say, “You have believed because you have seen me. Blessed are those who have not seen me and yet believe.”