Nothing but a promise

Is this how it was for Jesus
Sometimes
When he went out to pray,
That you felt so far away
But he knew in his bones
You remained the same?
He must have known
That he was perfect
And pleasing to you
And had no fear of rejection.
Or maybe...
Eloi, eloi
Lama sabachthani
Maybe he didn't
At least once.
Jesus, my perfect high priest
Be in this with me,
The fear I've been forsaken
Due to my own faults.
It's not enough to say "no"
My heart must know "why?"
And we just say
"Because cosmic, irrefutable
Work was done by Jesus
And the end result
Of the living of life
Of the carrying of cross
Of the shedding of blood
Of the breathing his last
Of the preaching to spirits
Of the rising from death
Of the ascending to the Father,
And sitting down at his right hand,
And of his coming return
Is that a promise has been made
Great, pan-galactic machinery
Clunking into place
All to allow we few sheep
To confess with our mouths
That Jesus is Lord
And believe in our hearts
That God raised him from the dead
And be saved."