Tara's Heartbeat

The Man in the Middle I stand at a distance, sadly watching my Son, As tears of grief cascade down my cheeks. I am helpless… I cry… I cannot stop them! The shouts grow louder and anger spills over. The Roman Soldiers throw chains about His neck, And bind His hands and feet, so He cannot escape. They drag my precious Son through the busy streets, And the crowds curse Him, throw rocks and hit Him. A young man points a finger and shouts, "Look! It's the Nazarene, the man called Jesus." A man snarls, then he spits in Jesus' face. Another comes close, to ridicule and hit Him. The crowds of people think it humorous, That the guards take turns hitting Jesus. His face is bruised, swollen, bleeding and, So marred that He no longer looked human. The crowds stand by as Pontius Pilate, Declares that he has found no fault with Jesus. The angry people hiss and uproariously cry out, Crucify Him! Crucify Him! He is not the Messiah! They scourged my Son for crimes He did not commit. But He said not a word, as they viciously beat Him, First with heavy sticks, and then with the awful whips, That ripped His flesh and exposed the deep wounds. After the scourging, the soldiers twisted together a crown, An awful crown of thorns, that pushed deeply into His scalp! As each long thorn buried its razor sharp ends into His head, Blood spurted and ran down our precious Lord's face. To mock Jesus, a soldier threw a purple robe about Him. The crowds repeatedly began to chant, "Hail, King of the Jews!" Some struck His face and spat upon Him while others, Laughed at the mock display of a king condemned to die. Pilate thought a scourging would satisfy the crowd, but it did not, So he asked them which man should go free, Jesus or Barabbas? The crowd shouted, Release Barabbas, and the murderer was set free. The crowds then became to shout, Crucify Jesus! Crucify Him now! Jesus had stood beside Pilate, but now a soldier was coming for Him. Pilate looked at Jesus, and knew he was unable to stop this travesty. Pilate saw understanding and forgiveness in the eyes of the Son of Man, Whom Pilate now had to deliver over to Rome for Jesus' crucifixion. Three crosses on the hill of Golgotha, waited for the three criminals. One thief was on His left, the other His right; He hung between them. The Man in the middle was beaten and bloody, his face contorted in pain. He looked at me, and to those He so loved, then prayed to His Father. "Father, He cried out, Forgive them for they know not what they do!" One of the thieves mocked Jesus, the other begged Jesus to remember Him. Jesus cried out, It is finished; Father, into Your hands I commend my spirit. The battle was over, my Son had died, and the Sin debt had been paid in full. Jesus was wounded because of, and for, everyone's transgressions, He was bruised for our guilt and iniquities and every Sin on earth. He had stood before the crowds as the Spotless Lamb of God, Yet, in their ignorance, they had oppressed and judged Him guilty. His loved ones were filled with grief and thought all hope was now gone. He was buried in a borrowed tomb, and soldiers stood watch for a reason. But on the THIRD DAY, just as He had said, He arose from the dead! The Keys of the Kingdom were now in the hands of the rightful owner! Tara Hart © 2004 All Rights Reserved by the author Away in a Manger It was a silent night filled with expectancy A night like no other. The shepherds slept and the angels sang. The glistening star appeared. An angel proclaimed the message of a newborn King. Shepherds made their way to Bethlehem, For they were following the star. Angels' wings rustled in the gentle breeze, As shepherds neared the stable. They fell in worship at the sight of baby Jesus. A chorus of angels sweetly sang to the baby lying in the manager. Joseph smiled and his heart sang. Mary looked adoringly at her Son, the Messiah. No room in the Inn, no cradle for a bed, but still He was arrayed in Heaven's royal robes not seen by human eyes. The most important event mankind had ever known, Was the night that Jesus was born. Without His birth, mankind would have perished. Instead, this sweet baby Jesus, Came for one purpose alone, To give new life to a lost and dying world. He is the reason for this joyous season, And forever, He will live in the hearts of men. Tara Hart copyright 2001 His Birth Proclaimed It was a silent night filled with expectancy and a night like no other. The shepherds slept. Angels sang. The glistening star appeared. An angel proclaimed the glorious message of the newborn King. Shepherds hurriedly made their way to Bethlehem, following the star. Angel wings rustled in the gentle breeze as shepherds neared the stable. They fell in worship at the sight of the baby Jesus with happy hearts. A chorus of angels sweetly sang to the baby lying in the manager. Joseph smiled. Mary looked adoringly at her Son, the Messiah. No room in the Inn, no cradle for a bed, but still He was arrayed in Heaven's royal robes that were not seen by human eyes. The most important event that mankind had ever experienced, was the night that Jesus was born. Without His birth, mankind would have perished, but instead this sweet baby Jesus came for one purpose alone -- to give new life to a lost and dying world. He is the reason for this joyous season and blessed we are, because forever He will live in the hearts and lives of men.           Tara Hart © 2001 all rights reserved Love´s Christmas Gifts The Christmas gifts I love the most, will not be hidden under the tree. They will not be wrapped in pretty paper, nor will their frills make boast. These gifts are cherished and set apart, and make all the difference to me. They will my mind with fond memories, forever to be etched on my heart. Your soft words I love to hear, promises whispered -- dreams come true. Your gentle arms enfold me with love, and I cherish our time, it is so dear. Tender words and smiles will forever last. Understanding and love fill my stocking. Joys and happy times will trim my tree. Your precious gifts erase love´s stormy past. Gifts that money cannot buy for me, are the gifts that I will cherish for a lifetime. Tenderness, love and compassion given freely, lay lavishly spread under my Christmas tree. To say I love you, does not begin to define, the priceless feelings I hold so deeply inside. This special holiday comes but once a year, but you, my treasure from God, is ever mine. Tara Hart © 2001 all right reserved BECAUSE OF...LOVE Betrayed...by one He had offered love to Lies...for thirty pieces of silver A Kiss...of betrayal not love Judas...was it really worth it? Stretch forth...nail-scarred hands and feet! Exposed...nakedness, raw and bleeding flesh! Why?...unmercifully they beat Him, spat on Him Insult...a crown of thorns instead of a crown of gold Thirst...they offered Him vinegar to drink A Spear...thrust deep within His side A Cry...a prayer for their forgiveness Forsaken...by His Father, friends and loved ones Listen...sad cries of agony and pain Look...drops of crimson blood flowing Pity...poor Mary's son has been slain! Know...He died for you and me! Resurrected...no grave could hold Him! Sin's debt...He paid it all in full Ascended...His mission on earth completed Coming Again...to rule and reign forevermore! Tara Hart copyright (1997) All rights reserved THE MANY WAYS OF LOVE As we ponder the depths of love, and search the mystery of its boundless traits, we must ever be amazed at this simple little four letter word, that rules the world. There are so many ways of love. The love of and man and wife, the first love of sweethearts, the adoring love of children, the love of parents, siblings, and relatives, and the geniune love of friends. And then there is the love of pets, places you have been, possessions that you hold so dear, and the list could go on and on. But there is a love that far outreaches are ability to completely comprehend. It is an unconditional love. A love so deep and endless that not even time or eternity can transcend it. It is a love filled with beauty and assurance, a love never failing but always forgiving. It bathes us in peace, joy, and the soul's satisfaction. It reaches far above the highest star and bends down to touch the lowest struggling soul, who is blinded by the darkness of sin. It thrills us beyond anything else in this world, when we stop and realize the height and depth of His love. The love of GOD is so measureless, so awesome, so pure. He never stops to wonder if He should love us, He just loves us in spite of all our failures and sin. When we hate ourselves or feel defeated, His love is always there to encourage and lift us up. He cradles us next to his breast and soothes our aching hearts when life is too much for us to bare. He is the source of love. So as we celebrate this day of Love, I pray we all remember to send our love to Him, the giver and keeper of this wonderful thing called LOVE. Tara Hart Copyright (2001) MAMA'S SPECIAL GIFT Little Cindy excitedly hung each ornament on the tree with the greatest of care. In silence she worked, as though she was creating the masterpiece of her time. Now and then she would stop and look at the tree, then hum a Christmas song. Her little heart was singing with great anticipation as she placed the last little snowman on a limb, then stepped back to appraise her handiwork. "Just right! It must be prettier this year than ever before," she giggled with delight. She stood there in a daze, overwhelmed by its beauty, until suddenly the doorbell chimed and startled her back to reality. She ran to the door and flung it open as if she expected Santa himself to be standing there. Instead, Grandpa Allen stood there with his arm full of packages, his cheeks pink from the winter breeze. "Well, help me child, before I drop the whole lot of them!" Grandpa joyfully exclaimed. Cindy giggled, then took several of the packages and led the way to the glimmering tree. After placing each gift under the tree, Cindy hugged and kissed Grandpa, then motioned for him to sit in the big overstuffed chair that he liked so much. Then she climbed onto his lap, gave him a long look then said. "Grandpa, I haven't seen you for months, I'm sure glad you could come here for Christmas!" "I wouldn't miss it for anything, honey. It is my favorite day of the year, and you are my favorite little princess. The house sure is quiet, where is your Mama and Daddy?" "Mama's in the kitchen baking cookies and Daddy went for some last minute shopping. And guess what? They let me decorate the tree all by myself!" Cindy beamed with delight. I just finished it, Grandpa, what do you think?" Grandpa looked at the tree for what seemed like a really long time to Cindy, then he smiled proudly at her and said. "You did a lovely job, honey, I am very proud of you. It just seems like yesterday that I was bouncing you on my lap. Now look at you, a lovely, talented ten year old girl!" Cindy hugged his neck and whispered, "Thank you, Grandpa, I'm glad you like the tree." Cindy told Grandpa she had a surprise for him and left the room to get some fresh baked cookies and hot chocolate. When she came back into the room she noticed Grandpa looking intently at the tree, and saw tears trickling down his weathered cheek. Hiding the fact she has seen his tears, she placed the goodies on the table beside his chair then said. "You really do like the tree, don't you Grandpa?' "Yes, darling, it reminds me so much of a tree that I saw many years ago." "Really? Tell me about it, will you please Grandpa? Please!" "It is a sad story, sweetheart. Are you sure you sure you want to hear it?" She nodded in response as he took a long breath then stared at the tree again. "It was in a little town where I used to live, oh, probably at least forty years ago. Each Christmas a tree was placed in the town square, and lit with white bulbs and decorations that the children in town made and hung on the tree. It was a custom for folks in the town to bring gifts the night before Christmas, and leave them there for those who did not have much...you know, the homeless and poor people in town. There were candles on a small table beside the tree, and everyone who brought a gift would say a prayer for the person who would receive the gift. It was a lovely tradition that everyone enjoyed. "I used to spend a great deal of time looking at the tree because it was near the shoe store I owned. I loved watching the people bring their gifts and making their wishes. The joy of someone finding a gift under the tree with his or her name on it was very heart-warming. "That chilly moonlit night, the snow was falling lightly and it glistened on the trees like diamonds. It was such a lovely sight, so I stood there for sometime looking through a little corner of the window, where Jack Frost hadn't been yet. Many people had come earlier and placed their gifts. It was nearly time for me to close the shop when I noticed a small figure close to the tree. I was not sure if it was a child or an animal, so I opened the door quietly and peeked outside. There was a little girl about your age, Cindy, and I was surprised to see her out so late on such a cold wintry night. Her hair glistened in the moonlight as she leaned down to pick up a candle. My curiosity was aroused since the hour was so late for a child her age to be out in the wintry night alone. "I quietly walked across the street and came up behind the tree. As I started around to the front of the tree, I stopped abruptly when I heard a little girl's sobbing voice. I couldn't move, I felt as though my feet were frozen in the snow, but her words is what had me frozen in time. She seemed to be talking with someone, although I hadn't noticed anyone else around when I crossed the street. I felt so guilty just standing behind the tree listening to her conversation, but I just could not make myself leave. I listened intently, waiting for someone to answer her, but instead she grew quiet. Then I realized she was whispering between sobs. And those words cut deep into my heart and I can still hear them just like they were yesterday." "Mama, I picked this rose for you in the summer, and it was so pretty then. Its sweet smell filled the house and reminded me of how pretty you always smelled. I kept it watered and took real good care of it. But Mama, it died. So I put it in a book, the way you used to do four-leaf clovers. I checked it often, Mama, because I wanted to bring it to you before all of its beauty was gone. But it so reminded me of you, that I just kept putting off bringing it. Then one day, all of its sweet smell was gone, just like you, Mama. But still I kept it tucked away in the book, just like I keep you in my heart. I just couldn't throw it away. "Things are the same here Mama, nothing much has changed. Daddy works sometimes, but still drinks away most all he makes from the odd jobs. And now he has a girlfriend who gives him drugs. I try to be real good to him though, and I tell him that Jesus loves him. But he just won't listen, and gets real mean when he is drunk. So, Mama, everything is just about the same here. But I hope to see you real soon. I'm so tired and most of the time am really hungry. Some of your nice church friends bring us food sometimes, and I always say God bless you. But Mama, I long to snuggle under your loving arm once again, and hear you sing those pretty songs about Jesus. I miss you so much, Mama! "I did not have anything else to bring you for Christmas, so I decided to bring this rose to you, even though I hate to part with it...it was so much like you. I made a wish tonight, and prayed that God would send an angel to carry it to you, and maybe by the time it gets to Heaven, it will be all pretty and new. You always told me that everything in Heaven is perfect, so I know God will make this rose new again for you. I love you with all my heart, Mama, and soon I am coming to be with you." Cindy looked at grandpa with tears streaming down her cheeks, and said, "What happened next Grandpa?" "I was shivering so badly from the cold, as I stood there listening. My heart was breaking for this little girl and tears were coursing down my cheeks. It took me a minute to realize the night was silent. Deathly silent. I did not hear her whispering anymore and I wondered if she had left. After a couple of minutes of waiting, I moved slowly toward the front of the tree. There on the snow-covered ground beside the tree lay the frail little girl, with the rose still clutched in her hand. I leaned down and spoke to her, but she seemed not to hear me. I picked her up and clutched her cold little body against me and covered her with my coat. As I started to carry her to my shop so she could get warm, I heard a faint whisper escape her frozen lips. Her face was aglow, like sunshine glistening on the ocean and she wore the sweetest smile I had ever seen. She gasped for breath and in the smallest of whispers she said. "Mama, oh Mama, I brought this rose for you!!" "Her little body went limp in my arms, and I knew that this sweet little angel had delivered her gift of love herself. My heart filled with joy and I looked heavenward and said. "Happy Birthday Jesus, this precious child is your special gift from earth." Grandpa took Cindy in his arms and held her close for a few moments and then said. "Cindy, the gifts under the tree aren't the real gifts of Christmas, they are only a small token of the love that the giver possesses; just like the greatest gift that was given to us so many years ago. He wasn't wrapped in pretty paper or placed under a Christmas tree. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes and lain in a manger. Jesus came to live on Earth for a short time. His purpose in coming was to die for the sins of the whole world; that whosoever believes in Him might be saved. He was indeed the greatest gift of love ever given to mankind." Tara Hart (C) 1980 (revised 1999; 2002)