I wanted something to help me focus, to remember. All of the crosses for sale...many were so beautiful. I'd seen a room done, the ironwork on the crosses--beautiful, and altogether it created a peaceful and meditative atmosphere. There is a time and a place for that.
But I decided, I didn't want to buy a pretty cross. I need, somehow, to have a cross that reminds me, that calls me, to suffer, to die.
Oh, the one I chose is still much prettier than the real thing. There are no nails. There is no blood... It is simple, small and black...it can sit in front of me.
Truth be told...I'd much prefer a pretty cross.
Even as I sit here, thinking of how I run from "my cross," I had the thought..."hmm...maybe I need to move that to front and center on my table." I was thinking that might help me meditate on it more.
NO, I don't need to meditate on it! Even my not-so-pretty cross, is only meant to remind me to DO what He said to do. Jesus said to take up the cross and follow Him...I'd much rather look at it, analyze it, ponder it, think about how it's hard, write a blog post about it. I'd rather do all of these things than actually pick up mine and carry it.
But I need to pick it up.
The problem with me, is I want to choose my cross. I want to choose my death.
There are some that are much nicer than others.
But it is the one before me that is mine to carry.
Anyone who doesn't pick it up, is not worthy of Him.
I need no pretty cross.
I probably don't even need this one.
I DO need to learn to pick up my cross, to die daily.