Day Two - A Family of The Resurrection
It was Bloody. Full of Slivers. Heavy. Imperfect. Smelly. Rough. Ugly. Not at all like these pretty little smooth crosses that fit neatly in our pockets. So light we easily forget we are carrying them around all day. Not at all like the shiny silver and gold crosses that hang around necks and adorn ears and maybe even decorate our homes and churches. No we (my family) decided the "real cross" must have been a pitiful, horrible, disgusting thing. It had probably already seen death before; been a party to the punishment of crucifiction. A sign of humiliation.
Last night our devotions happened to be about whispering God's name to remind us that he is always listening. But as Jesus Christ labored over each breath and painful step with the crushing weight of the cross on his back, who's name did he whisper? Most certainly he called upon his Father God, just as we do.
The first day of carrying my pretty little cross stunk. I was crabby and depressed and it rained and the LAST place I wanted to be was wherever I was. I vented to Big D through a text. He sent his condolances with a reminder . . . "Do you have your cross?" I am not as good as other women about bragging when my man gets things right but let me make up a bit for that right now. He said the PERFECT thing.
The kids and I were reminded that this cross in our pockets is not a lucky charm, it holds no magical power, it doesn't make us stronger by carrying it and it isn't for others to even know we have it on us. But when Big D asked if I had it with, I was reminded that my crabby, grumpy, whiny attitude was not living as a woman of the resurrection. Seriously? Poor me I have to work at a job I love and with people who have a profound and eternal influence on me??? Eesh, I am embarrassed just to think about my actions.
The verse from our devotion was one of my favorites, "Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever." I was thrilled to see the rest of my family hear and take comfort in this truth as well. So when did the kids remember that they had a little cross in their pocket? Paige had a fitness test and beat a personal record, she remembered then. Colby was quick to remind her it wasn't a lucky charm. But we talked about the strength of Jesus Christ on Good Friday (and always) and I think it's o.k. to remember where all strength comes from. Colby mentioned that several other students had theirs on their desk and he was proud to know his was in his pocket too. He was a part of this family of beleivers. Asa, the little one who was the most excited to get his in the first place, lost his. I'm sure we'll find it, but since he is the one always reminding us that Easter is everyday, I think he'll do o.k. until we replace it.
Yesterday I was one person, today I am someone new and in forever I rely in the hope of certainty that I will be something entirely different altogether. But Christ, he is that certainty . . . ALWAYS. When he was a child, when he was an adult, when he was beaten, when he carried that big UGLY cross. He was and is and always will be. . . PERFECT. I guess I'll take a crabby day and a pretty featherlite cross over his bloody, putrid one anyday. And the best news is, I can do this because I am part of a family of the Resurrection.
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