**The Cry of the Forsaken: A Story Inspired by Psalm 22**

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the rocky hills of Jerusalem. The air was thick with the scent of dust and sweat, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. A crowd had gathered, their voices a cacophony of jeers, whispers, and cries. At the center of it all stood a man, beaten and broken, nailed to a rough-hewn wooden cross. His name was Jesus of Nazareth, the one they called the Messiah, the Son of God. Yet, in this moment, He felt utterly forsaken.

As the hours dragged on, the weight of the world pressed down upon Him. His body, already ravaged by the scourging, trembled with exhaustion. His hands and feet, pierced by iron nails, throbbed with searing pain. The crown of thorns pressed into His brow, sending trickles of blood down His face. But the physical agony was nothing compared to the spiritual torment that gripped His soul.

Jesus lifted His eyes to the heavens, His voice trembling as He cried out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” The words echoed across the hillside, a raw and desperate plea. It was a cry that had been prophesied centuries before, written by King David in the Psalms. In that moment, Jesus embodied the anguish of Psalm 22, a psalm that began in despair but would end in triumph.

The crowd below sneered and mocked Him. “He trusts in God,” they said, their voices dripping with scorn. “Let God rescue Him now if He wants Him, for He said, ‘I am the Son of God.'” Even the soldiers joined in, casting lots for His garments, fulfilling yet another detail of the psalm: “They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing.”

Jesus’ mind wandered back to the words of the psalm, words He had known since childhood. “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me. My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.” Every line of the psalm seemed to mirror His suffering. He felt the dryness of His throat, the ache in His limbs, the crushing weight of sin—not His own, but the sins of the world—that separated Him from His Father.

Yet, even in His darkest hour, Jesus clung to the promise woven throughout the psalm. Though it began with despair, it did not end there. “For He has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; He has not hidden His face from him but has listened to his cry for help.” Jesus knew that His suffering had a purpose. He was the Lamb of God, the sacrifice that would take away the sins of the world. Though He felt forsaken, He trusted in the Father’s plan.

As the sky darkened and the earth trembled, Jesus’ thoughts turned to the future. The psalm spoke of a time when “all the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before Him.” He saw in His mind’s eye the countless souls who would be redeemed through His sacrifice. He saw the nations coming to worship the one true God, their hearts transformed by His love.

With His final breath, Jesus cried out, “It is finished!” The words were a declaration of victory, not defeat. The suffering foretold in Psalm 22 had been endured, and the promise of redemption had been fulfilled. As His body went limp, the temple curtain tore in two from top to bottom, symbolizing the end of the separation between God and humanity. The earth shook, and the centurion standing nearby exclaimed, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”

Three days later, the tomb where Jesus’ body had been laid was found empty. He had risen, just as He had promised. The despair of Psalm 22 had given way to the joy of resurrection. The psalm’s closing words now rang true: “They will proclaim His righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!”

And so, the story of Psalm 22 became the story of salvation. The cry of the forsaken became the anthem of the redeemed. Through His suffering, Jesus had brought hope to the hopeless, light to the darkness, and life to the dead. The psalm that began with a cry of anguish ended with a song of praise, a testament to the faithfulness of God and the power of His love.