Crowned with love

What kind of crown is this?

Bejewelled with thorns and sharpened with sorrow

Twisted and jagged, like us.

This is a strange coronation

When the throne is a criminal’s cross.

Instead of acclaim - a gambling game of dice

For ragged clothes

No fine robes, no trumpet voluntary

Crowds jeering and sneering,

And a lacerated man

Whose body takes the pain and shame of the world.

What kind of king is this?

Whose glory lays all glory down

For love of you and me

He looked defeated, his kingdom lost

And yet, the greatest battle is won

Because he chose this way –

“Your will, not mine be done!”

What kind of love is this?

It is the greatest kind

Not that we loved God but that God has loved us first

And gave his Son to die for all our sins

So that we could live forever

And we could love like him.

Glory to the King of Kings!

May you know this extraordinary, unfailing love this Easter,

With my love,

Kate