Monday, April 16, 2007
Taking a break
Since 2003, I have really enjoyed writing this blog. I'm going to take a break for awhile from writing. No timetable, I'm just gonna intentionally push myself away from the keyboard. I seem to be transitioning some of my own thinking and I'm taking a break from a lot of the things I've been doing over the past few years. I really don't know where I'm headed.
Feel free to check back in periodically to see if I have found inspiration to write again.
peace,
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The Cross is a Necessary Night
In an hour starts Good Friday. Because God allowed, I had time tonight to reflect the way I needed to. I am relating to the cross this night more than I wish. What did Jesus feel that night? betrayed, lonely, wounded, heavy, tired, beaten, broken, weary, gasping . . . heart full of pain and fear. These kinds of nights are never easy. They seem to last forever. They are designed to overwhelm, meant to anihilate spirit, purposed to darken the heart, on target to crush a soul. The cross is a heavy, heavy night.
The cross of Jesus is shameful to me. That it was required at all brings shame to me. If I could take it all away I would, but I can't. My pride makes it necessary.
The cross is a necessary night. One cannot enter fully into the Kingdom of God unless the cross is used as a key, it opens the portal, the opening between this one and the realm where God's fully is. The cross opens the portal to God, it opens us to the place we were always meant to be. Without the cross, we are quite literally lost. Missing in this realm with no direction, no connectedness, no hope, no story. As far as I am aware, there are no other keys. There is the cross of Jesus and no others.
I relate to the cross in my constant battle with depression and anxiety. I can hardly separate the causes and triggers from natural to super-natural. I just know that its quite debilitating. Hope sometimes seems so far away. But its in the darkness that I relate to my Jesus. Sitting in the caved dungeon below Caiphas's house, falsely accused, condemned to death, cursed by those who praised him entering Jerusalem on the back of a colt. If I take the time to open my heart through the pain, I realize that I'm not alone in this dungeon. My Jesus is here and he's been here before. The night isn't over, but that's enough to make waiting for the morning just about worth it.
Am I thankful for the cross? Today more than ever. It is a neccesary cross, perhaps this night is the same. An unwelcomed but neccesary night. I'm pretty sure that's exactly what Jesus thought. He endures the night with me in mind, ascribing unspeakable worth to me. Now that's a thought that dares to whisper hope in this night. Its a neccesary night, but not altogether dark.
peace to your reflection of our triumphant Jesus . . . he is pure love,
The cross of Jesus is shameful to me. That it was required at all brings shame to me. If I could take it all away I would, but I can't. My pride makes it necessary.
The cross is a necessary night. One cannot enter fully into the Kingdom of God unless the cross is used as a key, it opens the portal, the opening between this one and the realm where God's fully is. The cross opens the portal to God, it opens us to the place we were always meant to be. Without the cross, we are quite literally lost. Missing in this realm with no direction, no connectedness, no hope, no story. As far as I am aware, there are no other keys. There is the cross of Jesus and no others.
I relate to the cross in my constant battle with depression and anxiety. I can hardly separate the causes and triggers from natural to super-natural. I just know that its quite debilitating. Hope sometimes seems so far away. But its in the darkness that I relate to my Jesus. Sitting in the caved dungeon below Caiphas's house, falsely accused, condemned to death, cursed by those who praised him entering Jerusalem on the back of a colt. If I take the time to open my heart through the pain, I realize that I'm not alone in this dungeon. My Jesus is here and he's been here before. The night isn't over, but that's enough to make waiting for the morning just about worth it.
Am I thankful for the cross? Today more than ever. It is a neccesary cross, perhaps this night is the same. An unwelcomed but neccesary night. I'm pretty sure that's exactly what Jesus thought. He endures the night with me in mind, ascribing unspeakable worth to me. Now that's a thought that dares to whisper hope in this night. Its a neccesary night, but not altogether dark.
peace to your reflection of our triumphant Jesus . . . he is pure love,
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