We were shopping for a new door....not a cross. Not "needing" something to hang on the wall.....not shopping for a reminder of what Christ gave us. But there it was....an enormous cross, leaning against a wall...forgotten and not wanted. Sitting in the cold, against a wall...someone had ordered it and decided against it.
It was said to be "too big" and it was said something that would not "fit" with the decor. Too much.
A cross...not a crucifix...the symbol of our risen Christ. Almost as tall as I am, though I am shrinking, its still smaller than I am. Yet so heavy that one man has trouble lifting it, to mount on my wall. Which makes me know, in a visceral way, what our Lord must have done, in lifting and carrying it....makes me weep with the knowledge.
And it was no mistake, this cross. Which hangs on my wall...dominating the room and which needs to dominate my life. I am not always there, at this cross. But it is here. And I know it is supposed to be. Dominant in my life....here in front of me where I cannot ignore it, nor forsake it as He has never forsaken me. It's presence makes Him present in my life , every day. I cannot ignore it, which is how it should be.
He knew I would need this constant reminder, flaky, failing, flailing human that I am. I need Him and I need the sacrifice He gave otherwise there would be no me. Not as the person I should be, not as the person He wants me to be.
Scarlet letter stamped firmly on my head, I am washed clean and white in the blood of the Lamb.
Thank you Lord for letting me see this cross and having the grace to bring it into my home. Make me worthy Lord....however you see fit.
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