The tips of the thorns piercing the skin of His forehead. The leather fashioned into a scourge for His back. The bits of metal, iron or fiber fastening Him to the pillar. The woven fibers in the purple cloth mockingly clothing Him. The gravity weighing him down as he ascended to Golgotha. The wood of the cross beam digging into His aching shoulders. The harsh gravel and rocks meeting his poor knees as He fell. The iron of the nails driven into His hands and feet. Gravity again tearing His wounds and making it nearly impossible to breathe as His beautiful arms outstretched on the cross. The creation which was once so good, stripped of its goodness and used for evil. The creatures have rebelled against their Creator, and He let them because of Love.
And He did it for me. So I could have mercy and grace and love and be a child of God and a relationship with the Father despite my sinfulness.
O Blood and Water, which gushed forth from the heart of Jesus as a fount of mercy for us, I trust in You!
Anyway, some saint has probably written about this more completely and coherently. If so, I would love to find such a thing.