"I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands." - Psalm 143:5

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Unrecognizable?




This is a repost (a short story) from 2014 but it conveys my heart as I immerse myself in the reason for every season of my life…His sacrifice for us. - Jay

Unrecognizable?

My neighbors shouted for me to hurry, to drop what I was doing and follow them. They ran ahead, their excited voices forcibly joining the crowd we were running towards. The last thing I heard clearly was…

He was coming…

The air was filled with dust and anger, making me uneasy and fearful; wondering if I should turn back to the safety of my home. Instead I jostled for position against the mob that lined the street. I flexed my broad shoulders and forcibly squeezed my way to the front, not caring about the bruises I gave or received. I wiped my eyes, trying to free them from the dust assaulting them. I wanted to hush the people around me, gather my bearings and find him in the crowd. I followed their pointed fingers and their jeers to the person walking down the street… he was coming.

My neighbors lied…this couldn’t be him…it was hardly a man! This was a walking, bloody mass of sorrow. Who could do that to such a man like him? It just couldn’t be him!

Could it?

I followed, weaving through the families, the merchants and soldiers, struggling to keep pace with a man weighed down by a cruel wooden beam. The pointed fingers turned to clenched fists and the anger grew into hatred, cold and brutal, such like I’ve never witnessed before. The grotesqueness of the crowd mirrored this man’s wounds… raw and unforgiving. The mob eagerly spewed insults and spit with vicious accuracy. I wondered what hurt the man more, these vile words, or the punishment covering his body.

Why would they do this to HIM?

I lost count how many, but a number of times, he fell hard on the street of stones. The blood, the pain and the weight of his burden all conspiring to trip him. The forced march continued only after the soldiers made a man, randomly plucked from the crowd, carry the heavy load for him.

My Tears became a guttural sob, the tension ramming grief down my throat. I turned my head, wanting to run away from the figure struggling to walk, even without the beam to carry. The mocking crowd shouted curses mixed with the name of Jesus…trying to blend them into one.

It just couldn’t be him…why would he let them do this to him?

On the mountain of skulls they nailed this battered pulp of a man to a cross. He looked un-human, torn, battered…and finished. He was unrecognizable…until I heard him speak.

“Father forgive them…they know not what they do!”

I was wrong all along…he was recognizable…this is who I was looking for.

HE is the Messiah…He is Jesus!


© Jay Cookingham

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Everyday Pilgrimage



I wrote this poem a few years ago during Lent, considering the pilgrimage I am on right now...I believe it fits. I hope it blesses you. - Jay

Everyday Pilgrimage

I bow my head in reverence,
not in shame.

I kneel humbly in homage,
not in fear.

What I give up in surrender
is small.

What I gain in surrender
is without measure.

Repentance sorrow is
met with mercy.

A heavy heart is caressed
with hope.

More than need or want,
is the desire for redemption

That makes an everyday pilgrimage
real in my heart.

Jay Cookingham 2010 ©

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Psalm 51:10

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Send Me!




Hello Everybody!

I am scheduled to speak at Iron Sharpens Iron in Clearwater Florida (April 29) hosted by Next Steps for Men ministry. I have been honored to speak at several events (this will be my seventh) and have found them to be huge in touching/encouraging/impacting the lives of men. I see myself as a missionary when I go on these events and feel blessed to represent Bridge Builders Community Church (my church) as well as Strategic Fathering Ministries when I go.

As one of the presenters (usually around 20) I have to pay my own costs to go (this keeps the cost of the event low so more men can attend), in the past this included flights, hotels and meals. Part of the cost is also the printed materials that I give away during my sessions, which I am thrilled to do.

What I'm asking (and this is hard for me) is if you would consider partnering with me and help with some of the cost involved. I am trying to raise at least 1000.00 for the conference and would appreciate any help you may be able to give.

Of course, prayer support is huge...many men come broken, hurting without hope, and to see God minister healing to them is amazing. Many prayers are needed for that work to be done and for me to be a vessel in that process.

I cannot thank you enough for all the support and love I receive from all of you.

If you write out a check, make out to BBCC (Bridge Builders Community Church) just put Jay/ISI conference as the note. Send check to:

Bridge Builders Community Church
P.O. Box 887
Hyde Park, NY 12538

Or you could use this PayPal link.

God Bless,
Jay