Trinity Writers’ Group 2020 Holy Week
Greetings! Welcome to the Trinity Writers’ Group collection of Holy Week writings. The index of writings is listed below. Click a title to read it. These pages are best viewed from a full screen computer or ipad. If you’re viewing this page from a phone, you will have to scroll below the “Index of Writings” to view the writing. You can also download a pdf copy of these writings.
Index of Writings
- From the Manger to the Cross Through the Eyes of a Shepherd
- Lent
- My Introduction to Holy Week
- A Day to Remember
- Palm Sunday
- The Last Supper (Quinn)
- The Last Supper (Burnham)
- The Potter’s Field
- Three Crosses
- Were You There
- The Via Dolorosa
- The Road to Calvary
- About-Face
- The Crucifixion
- The Tree
- Holy Mother Mary
- The Death of Christ
- The Centurion
- Easter Lilies
- Sunday Morning
- Easter Morning (Burnham)
- Easter Morning (Quinn)
- Springtime Birds and Bunnies
- Funny Bunny
- Didn’t the Easter Bunny Come?
- What is Joy?
- The Triune Offering
- Talmage Gwaltney, Bio
- Patricia Woodbury, Bio
THE CRUCIFIXION
by Alice Kornegay Quinn
As darkness slowly descended over the horizon, a group of followers watched as the eleventh hour appeared. In the crowd standing over to one side, stood a group of ladies, among them was the mother of Jesus. She too had come to watch her beloved son as he hung on the cross. She stood silently alone, head bowed, eyes closed as the tears came running down her face, all the while praying. She silently watched her son as he clung to life. The, son whom God had blessed her with, this young girl, barely a teen at the time, who was destined to bear a son who would save the world. As she stood there, unaware of who else was there, she begin to ask herself, “Why me Lord, why did you give me a son and then take him away from me, how can I let him go?”
As the sun was going down, Jesus breathed his last breath saying, “Father into your hands I commit my spirit,” he closed his eyes and welcomed his heavenly father.
As the crowd silently moved away, Mary was sobbing the words, “My son, my son how can I let you go?”
