As another limb came crashing down, I wanted to know how the One who held the stars in His right hand could stand and do nothing to ease her pain. I turned, and saw His broken body. His blood spilled out upon the ground. Love, like a river, flowed from His eyes of compassion. Tears mingled with blood, at His feet on barren ground. Anguish crowned His brow. In His right hand, He held a double-edged sword, dripping with blood, drawn from the scales of justice. Hanging from His belt were the keys of Death and Hades. Behind the tears, burned an unquenchable, voracious fire, declaring justice.His countenance became radiant like the rising sun, like a prisoner set free from the curse of death. His left hand held a pardon written in red. In the face of this scandalous grace, the progeny of darkness denied the light and rejected the offer. The Lamb of God sheathed His sword, and with His word He dealt the fatal blow. A beast rose up from the grave to claim the unrepentant soul.I turned to look again, and standing in the midst of the blood and tears, was the Spirit of the Wind. Her broken body had pierced His palms, with fatal wounds, a crown of thorns upon His brow. A Roman soldier pierced His side. And when her pain was more than He could bear, heaven rejoiced as she drew her final breath. Blood flowed from Immanuel's veins. Love had crucified a rose. Yet as He hung upon that tree, He never let her go. He began to shape the broken pieces into what she had always been, a priceless treasure in His heart. By clinging to a wooden cross, He purchased with His own blood, what He already owned; and she became His pearl of greatest price.