Brooke called me crying on Monday.
I knew that something was wrong as she tried to talk through the tears. I braced myself for what was certainly going to be bad news. As she spoke, she told me that the young son of some dear friends of ours in Northport, AL had been tragically killed in an automobile accident that morning on the way to school.
Almost all of our teens have gone back to school at this point, and I think it would be safe to say that most of them are not especially happy about it.
They bound His hands, and they took Him captive. They beat Him, and they spat on Him. They slapped Him, and they plucked the hairs of His beard from His face. They put a crown of thorns on His head, and they whipped Him. They put a robe on His back and yelled, “Hail the King of the Jews.” They nailed Him to the cross, and they killed the Son of God.