Alive
Not sure why this Easter Season is so much more vivid this year. I have thought about the night before when He had the Last Supper and was betrayed; when those who had followed Him forsook Him and fled, and one closest to Him denied he ever knew Him. This morning I thought of His trial, his beatings, the agony of the crucifixation and I could not stop thinking of that crown of thorns on His Head. He suffered; He died; He was laid in a tomb. "For God so loved the world-----" John 3:16.
I just felt led. There was an old fence post just lying in one corner of my pasture on a little knoll. I took the old barbed wire and some long nails from the post then took an axe and split it: one of the split sections was shorted to make the crossbar. The cross was bound together with the nails and the barbed wire and I put the cross in the hole I had dug, then tamped it in. There. The old rugged cross. Yes, there it was: the semblance of that same old rugged cross that has made the difference in my life and in the lives of millions down through the ages. I stood there gazing upon it thinking that only moments before, only an impotent post and a sandy piece of pasture had been and could not help but consider that before I found that cross I was much like that old post, living a life without a meaning.
I considered the barbed wire and thought of the crown of thorns He had to wear. I saw the nails and thought of those Holy hands pierced and nailed to the cross.
But, it wasn't over. It was only the beginning - The cross is empty. The tomb is empty. My heart is full. He lives there. He is alive.
I just felt led. There was an old fence post just lying in one corner of my pasture on a little knoll. I took the old barbed wire and some long nails from the post then took an axe and split it: one of the split sections was shorted to make the crossbar. The cross was bound together with the nails and the barbed wire and I put the cross in the hole I had dug, then tamped it in. There. The old rugged cross. Yes, there it was: the semblance of that same old rugged cross that has made the difference in my life and in the lives of millions down through the ages. I stood there gazing upon it thinking that only moments before, only an impotent post and a sandy piece of pasture had been and could not help but consider that before I found that cross I was much like that old post, living a life without a meaning.
I considered the barbed wire and thought of the crown of thorns He had to wear. I saw the nails and thought of those Holy hands pierced and nailed to the cross.
But, it wasn't over. It was only the beginning - The cross is empty. The tomb is empty. My heart is full. He lives there. He is alive.
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