He bowed His head and gave up His spirit. His appearance marred beyond human resemblance. This was the face of the King; the face of a child born into a bed of hay; the face of the word become flesh; the face of love. And this face - marred beyond human resemblance. These cheeks - kissed in betrayal by a friend’s lips. This brow - encaged with thorns. These lips - cracked with thirst. These eyes - crying our freedom. This man - the man of sorrows.
He should have worn a crown of gold; He was the King. Yet in this brokenness, He was glorious.
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