Here is Your King

A Good Friday Reflection

Bodies press against me.
Heat rises with the growing tension in the crowd.
Voices escalate—beyond the quiet murmur of anxiety—to angry shouts of crucify.

How did I get here?
I’m not at the front.
Not in the back.
But I’m here.
In the crowd.
Close enough to see his face.

I feel the heat clinging to my arms, as people press in—warm and impatient.

There’s dust in my…