At the Cross

I was cuddled in my papasan chair (the coolest chairs ever) a couple nights ago, praying my rosary and reflecting on the suffering our Jesus endured for us (it’s Lent, after all).

And as often happens when I pray, I got distracted, and I found myself meandering into the realm of worrying over details of my life.

In that half-conscious mix of reflection and distraction…in that moment of finding myself slipping into fear and worry and confusion…in my mind I saw Jesus on the cross. Dying for us. Dying. For us.

And I was drawn to Him.

Instead of feeling repulsed at this bleeding Jesus on a cross, I wanted to be near Him. I was inexplicably drawn to the foot of the cross and wanted to stay there. I felt comforted.

Why? I asked myself.

Why would I find such comfort in this image of my suffering, dying Jesus? Why here at the foot of the cross instead of at His feet when He was teaching? Or hands lifted high worshipping Him in His glory? (though I love those aspects, too.)

Because when I see Jesus on the cross, I realized, I see the ultimate picture of love. Extravagant, unconditional, never-ending love. Love that draws us to Him, that gently calls us to trust this God who would give His all for us.

In a couple weeks, we will celebrate His glorious rising. But for now, we remember that without the cross, there would be no rising. Sacrificial love on a cross. Glorious victory over death. I’m so grateful for both.

Later that night before bed, I noticed the words to a song playing in my head: Sweetly Broken, by Jeremy Riddle. They are so beautiful and so appropriate…

At the cross you beckon me
You draw me gently to my knees
And I am lost for words
So lost in love
Sweetly broken, wholly surrendered...

And in awe of the cross I must confess
How wondrous your redeeming love
And how great is your faithfulness.

Amen.