Monday, March 4, 2013

Because of the cross

I awoke to the sounds of the songman's voice..."We shall see Jesus, just as they saw Him. There is no greater, promise than this." Last week during one of the services, I kept seeing HIM, on the cross and His eyes saw me as HE hung there. I existed only to HIM, for it would be centuries upon centuries before I even gave breath.

I listened to the words of the song over and over and I asked The Lord, what HE would have these hands write today. Deception has tried to smear my vision as accolades came from many directions this week about the stories I share. Those closest to me know the truth but without intention, I have may have deceived others. Prayer always comes first, and I write only if He leads me there. So I asked of HIM what would HE have me do this day...

The sounds of chaos came ringing loud and I saw lots of people. Dust was rising from the heels of the small burros and other pack animals as they reluctantly carried their loads. Voices could be heard from every direction and I couldn't make sense of the words so I just lied safely on my bed and watched them. The dust reached my lungs and I could taste the dirt. I saw others reaching for linens to cover their noses and mouths. I reminded The Lord that I trusted HIM, and HE was to take me where HE needed me to go.

I heard the strong man from church repeat the story from yesterday about how he had kissed his son's delicate baby belly and wonder how anyone could send their only son to die for us...

I choked on dust but kept walking to see where The Lord needed me to be. I could hear metal clinging loudly but didn't look around to find the source, and I walked on. I looked down as I walked through the heart of the town. The dusty ground began to settle and it felt harder under my feet as the surface changed. I followed a path where lots of people traveled. In the distance the sound of the metal pierced my ears and I heard many voices shout. I could see the tips of two crosses and what appeared to be a third rising but my feet walked quickly to get past it. I dared not look up again and I just wanted to get away from the voices of shame and ridicule.

My heart raced as fast as my feet and I realized I was still in my bed. I don't think this body could take witnessing such an event. The agony of someone going through that for me and for us all...

I took a deep breath and there was no dirt to choke me. I heard silence and my voiced prayed. "I trust You Lord. These are your hands to write with, You have my heart, You own my soul."

I can't imagine walking out the door this morning without even speaking to HIM. I shall pack my mule and walk about my day. Dust will fly around and I will hear chaos but I will keep walking. As long as HE needs me here, I will have to see the unkind, I will hear shame and I too will be deceived by many, but I will trust in HIM, and He will show me the path. I love Him this morning. I'm not always clear on the reason for the stories at first, but I think perhaps HE wanted me to get a better picture of why I should write...it's because of the cross I dared not see and it's because of the cross from which I didn't have to hang. If I could sing, I would burst into song, if I could speak, I'd shout with might because HE saw the cross for me, and he hung in my place and all I can do is write words...but I'll write them with honor.

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