The cross

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I already knew that for Easter, I wanted to talk a little about the cross because of this beautiful photograph my great friend, Amy Jo Becker, recently took.  One foggy morning in late March on her way to work, she spied this display near 120th & Sheridan in Westminister, CO (Victory Church) and thought to capture it for us all to ponder.

Even now, 2000 years after Jesus’ death on the cross, this representation evokes such such gratefulness and awe in my heart.

Childlike faith…

Imagine my delight when, this past Thursday, Gavin, my 3-year-old grandson, ran into the kitchen, suddenly dropped to his knees on the tile floor and began to exclaim, “Look, Nonna, it’s God…it’s Jesus!” 

I thought for a split second we were going to have to open our house for tours because it seemed he had discovered an Easter miracle on my floor. I just hoped it wasn’t the form of Jesus in a sticky dirt spot or something for all the world to see. But then I watched him as he took his finger and traced between the ceramic tiles, first up and down, then side to side: he drew a cross.

How excited, I can tell you, a nonna becomes when she realizes her toddler grandson has become aware of the cross of Jesus Christ, something one writer called “the dividing symbol of all history.”

Then Gavin and I went around the house and looked for the cross anywhere we could find it: between the panels on doors, on my old school-house window coffee table.  He excitedly “discovered” my cross collection and became especially excited by my very small replica of the “Christ the Redeemer” statue which stands high on the Corcovado Mountain in Rio de Janeiro.  “It’s God!  It’s Jesus!  It’s the cross!” Gavin would squeal with every new discovery, exhibiting more understanding than many full-grown Christians, I thought.

A little later, Gavin came out of the bathroom having found on a shelf the beautiful tiled cross my friend Marilyn had given me and reverently showed me his “find.” He carried that cross around with him for the rest of his visit while he played.

Max says it so well…The Cross by Max Lucado

It rests on the timeline of history like a compelling diamond.
It’s tragedy summons all sufferers.  Its absurdity attracts all cynics. 
It’s hope lures all searchers.  History has idolized and despised it,
gold-plated and burned it, worn it and trashed it.  History has done
everything but ignore it.  How could you?  How could you ignore such
a piece of lumber?  Suspended on its beams is the greatest claim
in history.  A crucified carpenter claiming to be GOD on earth.
Divine.  Eternal.  The Death-Slayer.  Never has timber been regarded
so sacred.  No wonder the Apostle Paul called The Cross event the
core of The Gospel (1 Cor. 15.3-5).  Its bottom line is
sobering: if the account is true, it’s history’s hinge.  Period.
If not, The Cross is history’s hoax.
As you ponder Christ on the Cross, what are your thoughts?…

The cross stands against the skyline of all time as the greatest symbol of the central fact of Christianity – the death of Jesus Christ in our place.  Yes, He died.  Yes, He was buried.  But that is only a part of the good news.  He didn’t stay on that cross, He rose from death, and oh – what was won in that victory for me – for me!

It’s God!  It’s Jesus!  It’s the cross!  Yaaaay!!!

Joyous blessings to you today as we celebrate a risen Savior, Jeanie

NOTE TO SELF: See the cross.  Ponder it.  Understand it.  Thank God for it.  Sing some Matt  Redman: You led me to the cross and I saw the face of mercy in that place of love…Now that I’m living in Your all-forgiving love,  my every road leads to the cross..

5 thoughts on “The cross

  1. I just read Gavin this blog and he is very excited – not only about hearing his name over and over, but about hearing the words Jesus and Cross;o)

  2. Our grandchildren are such wonderful, beautiful blessings from God.  What a priceless experience to share this with Gavin.

  3. What an awesome story.  Aren't kids the greatest about teaching us the simplicity of faith?  Some days I wish I could go back to that age, just to remember what unencumbered faith looked like.  Funny that we have to relearn how to have faith like that when we get older. 

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