As soon as He opened my eyes I saw it. I knew what I must do. At the time it did not seem such a hard
task. Compared to what I had been
carrying, this seemed painless. The
moment I asked Him to take it, the chains I once carried, He lifted it off so
effortlessly. Freedom taking its
place. He showed me His yoke.
And it is there that
He asked me to begin to walk.
I marched on over to this cross He had made for me. Only one cross stood for me to take. He delicately crafted it each piece of this
cross specifically for me. Carefully I
lifted it onto my back. But it was not
as I expected it to be. It was not made
smooth and light as feathers. My mind
had created images of how this cross would feel. But this was not what I anticipated. Instead the sticks cut into my hands, the wood
thrusted into my shoulder as I tried to maneuver its weight. Stumbling around I tried to regain my
balance. Although lighter than my burden
before, this was different.
Just a little
distance ahead of me I see a man.
I watch as He walks to the cross that wasn’t there just a
few minutes before. On His hands the
scars still remain. I watch as those
same hands that were bloodied and bruised for me, pick up the cross. This man doesn’t act as if this is an easy
load. But He does not reproach the load
He’s been asked to carry either. He simply picked it up and started walking. As He begins to stride down the road I see
Him stop for a second. He turns around
and gazes back at me. With a wave of His
hand, he motions for me to follow Him.
And there I choose to follow this man’s example. I trail behind Him, imitating what He
does. If this man carries His cross, so
should I.
Down the road we continue with me still following His example. We cross through rivers, streams, mud, and
dirt together. With each obstacle, my
heart pounds and doubts flood through my head.
But with each one I know that He is ahead of me. He shows me that I can make it through
because I know that He has gone before me.
With each step He reminds me of the day when the cross will be laid
down. The promise of what’s ahead lightens the load in the present moment. His voice echoes back to me such sweet words
that keep my feet steady.
Each night I lay down my cross as we rest. And every morning as the sun begins to rise
into the vibrant sky, the choice remains once again before me. To pick it up and continue down this road or
leave it where it stands. It is a
struggle each and every time. Some days
easier than other, but each time, fighting back my flesh, I carefully lift it back
unto my shoulders by His grace alone.
Along way, I glance at the sky, painted with sun rays that
cascade down on my face. The birds
chirping around me remind me once again of Your goodness. The cross I carry no longer seems so
heavy. Its weight still pushing down on
me, but no longer the discontentment I felt at carrying it.
We run beside one another, joy with each step. Excited to go on this path together. The fears pass each time with just a glimpse
at You. The doubts that creep in are
swayed by Your words.
But slowly the sunny landscape around me begins to turn
gloomy. These skies that used to shout
out Your love by their very presence, no longer declare this truth. I must diligently search to revive what You’ve
told me deep inside.
It feels as if my feet can’t go on. Every muscle feels the weight that I
carry. My neck aches, my back strains,
and my whole body pounds. This cross
seems to get heavier with each step that I take.
And Your image
seems to be fading quickly by the fog overtaking the air. I must strain my eyes to keep You in my
sight. If I can’t follow You, I don’t
know how I would continue on. How am I
supposed to keep walking if I can’t see You to follow?
I feel the anxiety creep in.
The rain pelts down on my face slowly dripping off my chin. I grasp on to this cross tighter than before
so afraid that if for one second if I loosen my grip, I’ll never pick it back
up. My pale white hands shake
uncontrollably from the strain. My whole
body shivers from the ice cold winds that pierce deep into these bones.
This rock that I stand on now seems to be crumbling
away. No longer is it firm. No longer is it secure. Soon the crumbling reaches my feet beneath me
and knocks me to the ground. The waves
from the ocean reach my head. They crash
over me with such a force that my face collides with the mud below. I struggle to stand under the power of the
sea. Each time I make it to my feet
again, I’m struck right to the ground once again.
Everything about me feels dark. The air around lifeless. The wind breathes its harsh bitter lies into
me. Your light which shone so radiantly
before, on longer breaks through the darkness.
I search and search for You, but in vain.
Have you left me here to fend for myself? Have you forgotten about your precious
child? Your child that You used to
love? Why did this firm foundation, I
thought was You, begin to crumble?
You’re supposed to stand firm.
You’re supposed to be my rock.
This place is lonely, Lord.
No one here with me in this storm.
No soul in sight. Some know I’m
here and their comforts help, but they bring no relief from this tempest that
has come. And still I lay in the midst
of it. Where are your promises? Have you held out on me, Lord? I need Your hand. I need some word from You—even just a
whisper. If I could hear You, I could
stand under this. If I could feel you I
would be strengthened. If I could just
touch You, I could remember that You are good and are for me. But these lies are all that I see. Nothing here talks about Your goodness. Everything seems just the opposite.
In my mind I wish I could throw this cross off. I wish I could run far away from the burden
it seems to bring. Or maybe I would cave
under its load.
I feel each contour of the wood, as each splinter pierces my
fragile skin. Indentations as it rams
into my back. I imagine this wrought
iron cross upon my back. But I know it
is simply a wooden cross that you have crafted for me.
And somehow, through Your power alone, I must choose to
trust what You have said. That You will
not leave me. That you are for me. That You love me.
Trembling I reach out my weak hand desperate for Your touch. I need to feel You or hear You or see
You. Something Lord!
And then I feel Your hand as You guide me back to You. Your firm grip never letting go. My heart finally slows reminded of Your
presence.
But this storm still remains. And my eyes still feel blinded. Beside me you take me by the hand and lead me
down the road. Frightened, the panic
begins to fill the air. And again I must
learn to trust where you take me.
As those around me and You begin to mock, it makes this
burden appear even heavier. The load
that I already cannot take, begins to crush me underneath. But I watch as You continue on. Even through all the stones they throw at You
and Your cross, I see you persist. Never
once dismayed by the attacks at all sides.
The words that creep into my mouth, quickly I work to dissolve before
they left destruction in their path. I
want to shout back at them. But instead
I follow Your example. Silence remaining
on my lips. Each time these attacks
come, Your lips pour out words to the
One above.
Somehow You maintain Your steps. The prayers You lift up keep You fighting. I know I have to follow Your example. Words fall out of my mouth in
desperation. I need Your strength. And I
know only that comes from You.
Others around me pass me with such ease. Their crosses seem so much easier to
bear. While mine seems bitter and made
of pure stone. But I know this is simply
a lie, like the thousands others the deceiver has whispered to me, hoping that
I will give in to its deception. I know
that this is the weight You know I can carry.
You have not asked me to do something that I cannot do. This is the cross you’ve asked me to
carry. And this load is so much lighter
than the burden You took from me. I must
continue to remind myself of all that You have done.
And with You there is power. With You I conquer these storms and
lies.
Each valley that we face I begin to love this cross I carry
even more. I would not trade it for the
riches this world has to offer. For this
is my badge. This is the one thing I can
do for all that you’ve done for me. It
smells sweetly to Him, so I must gladly choose to find joy in the cross He has
given me.
