The cross is such an interesting thing. The tool to kill slaves becomes the symbol of hope and salvation - it is truly for Christians a place where Heaven and earth come together in the loving self-sacrifice of Jesus. On it, our Emmanuel, God With Us, Jesus, stretches out his arms in a loving embrace to all of humanity. His own blood stains the lintel of this new Passover, and God the Father does what he did not require Abraham to go through with, the sacrifice of his son. Timeless, this one cross becomes a beacon, a sign of foolishness to the unbeliever but the very source of light and life to those who answer its call.
At The Foot of Your Cross
here I am,
at the foot of your cross.
All around me are the howling winds,
Like the Magdalene,
I cling to your cross,
my only anchor,
and press my cheek
against its rough
and bloodstained wood.
Here is the only shelter I know
as the hurricane blows.
I look up into your eyes,
eyes filled with such an intensity of love
that I cannot fathom it,
and all the tears of my misery
grief and guilt and remorse and sorrow,
for what we have done to you,
what I have done to you,
and what you have chosen to do for love.
What have I to give
equal to the glory of your love?
naked as I feel
beneath the light of your love,
Yet I wish to give it all -
my aching and sorrow, my hope,
my wisdom, my voice, my everything
all for you -
such a small offering in return
for what you have given,
but like the widow's mite,
thank you for letting me offer it.
at the foot of your cross,
let me make my stand,
now, and always.
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