Journey to the Cross

I came to the cross today. I had followed the path to the place they said Jesus was crucified. My walk was slow and difficult to bear. The baggage I carried on my back was too heavy and at times I stopped to rest but I could see it off in the distance, the cross. This was a journey I needed to take and my destination seemed far but I picked up the bags and continued on.  There were those who said I shouldn’t go, that I was too weak. Others said I couldn’t go, I wouldn’t be welcomed. There were those who called me names, hurtful names that made me think they were right. Along that path those names played over and over in my mind. The feelings reached deep into my soul. Was I too broken? Was I not worthy?  Would I not be welcomed? I almost turned around but something deep down inside of me kept telling me to go, so I traveled on.

The cross was getting closer and I could start to see the shadow of it. I felt the tears creep into the corners of my eyes and the weight and pain from the baggage was almost too much to endure. My legs felt as if they couldn’t take another step. My body was weary and blisters had formed on my feet. I felt the sweat drip down my back and my head hung low. This journey was so hard, was it worth all this pain just to see the cross? I took a few more steps and stopped, my back ached and my head hurt. I set my baggage down and fell to my knees. How far had I walked, how much farther did I need to go?

As I slowly lifted my head, there before me stood the cross. It was larger than what I had imagined. I reached out to touch it, the wood rough as I moved my hand over it. As I leaned into the cross I stood up, the cross bearing my weight. I took a few steps backwards and took in the full view. It was large and as I looked closer it looked as if someone had splattered red paint on it. But it wasn’t paint, it was where the blood of Jesus had dripped and fallen. It made me catch my breath. Around the base of the cross, sprinkled on the dirt was more blood. The pain of what Jesus had endured became apparent to me. I looked closer and I could see where the holes were made that had held the nails that pierced his skin. The sign above the cross read “This is Jesus, King of the Jews”.

I stood there in the shadow of the cross. My baggage lay at my feet, the baggage that I had carried with me on this journey to the cross. And then a voice from behind me said, “I’m glad you made it.” I turned and there was a man I didn’t recognize. He spoke again, “I’m glad you made it. I’ve been waiting for you.” I took a step towards him to get a better look. Did I know this man? Had I met him before? He looked vaguely familiar. Was he someone from my childhood? It seemed so long ago that I was a child, safe and secure in my parent’s home. He asked me if my journey had been difficult. I almost laughed out loud but stopped myself. I told him it had been the most difficult journey of my life and I didn’t even know exactly why I had come, but there was something that had pushed me and wouldn’t let me stop. He told me that there were others who had traveled this same path. Some had turned around because it had gotten to difficult but there were more like me who had continued on and had stood right where I was standing, at the foot of the cross. I asked him if they were happy they had made it and he told me that it had changed their lives.

As he spoke to me he began to look familiar. But where did I know him from? Those eyes, I was sure I had seen those eyes before. They felt as if they could see straight through me, not in a piercing way but in a caring way. They were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.  I asked him if there was a place where I could stay, a place to get a drink of water, have a meal, rest my weary body. He pointed to the north and told me there was a small village just over the hill where I would find a place to rest. I thanked him and reached out to shake his hand.

As his hand came towards mine, something caught my eye. It was a mark on his palm. It almost looked like a hole but how could that be? As my hand slid into his, my fingers touched the mark. I raised my head and looked at the man. Suddenly I remembered where I had seen his face and those eyes. My parents had a picture that use to hang in their bedroom of Jesus standing before a door. My eyes filled with tears and my knees buckled underneath me as I fell at his feet, my head bowed.

 I felt his hand touch my head and all at once the weariness, weight and pain that I had felt along the journey suddenly left. My body didn’t ache, my head didn’t hurt and I felt a feeling of love and acceptance that I hadn’t felt in years. He spoke to me in a voice that was soft and his words sunk deep into my soul.

He took his hand from my head and as I stood to look into those eyes once again, I saw that he had picked up my baggage. He told me that I wouldn’t need it anymore. He turned and began to walk down the path, carrying my bags, the weight pulling at his shoulders. I turned to look up at the cross, reaching out my hand to touch it, but when I looked back to see how far he had gone, he wasn’t there. The path was empty.

This journey that I had traveled had been long and difficult but as I stood in the shadow of the cross I knew that all that I had endured, the pain, the shame and the ridicule was no longer a part of who I was. Jesus had taken the bags that had weighed me down for so many years and as I stepped out of the shadow of the cross, I felt the light of the sun touch my face, and I knew that my life would never be the same.

Blessings,
Jill

Come to the Table

When you come to the table, do you approach slowly, sitting down and savoring the aroma of the meal and the time spent with others? Or do you rush in, sit down and quickly eat the food while barely tasting it?

"When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve.”

Do you speak softly and listen intently? Or do you interrupt, not allowing others to finish their sentences?

And while they were eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, “Surely you don’t mean me, Lord?”

Do you share about your day, your experiences at school, work or home? Are joys celebrated and lessons learned?

Jesus replied, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.” Then Judas, the one who would betray him, said, “Surely you don’t mean me, Rabbi?” Jesus answered, “You have said so.”

Do you pass the food until everyone has been served and do you offer thanks to God for the blessings before you?

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”

Tonight we come to the table observing the Lord’s Last Supper. On this night Jesus would break bread and pass the cup and announce that one of those closest to him would betray him.

How do you come to the table tonight? Is your head bowed down? Are you filled with worry, regret and shame? Jesus said, “Take and eat; this is my body and drink from this cup; this is my blood, which is poured out for you for the forgiveness of sins.”

Tonight, come to the table. Sit with Jesus. Listen to his words. Savor his presence. Eat and drink from his cup. And give thanks to God.

“When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.”

Blessings,

Jill

The Path of Least Resistance

Last year over Labor Day Weekend, my husband Dave and I, along with our son Andrew, were staying in our family cabin in the Black Hills of South Dakota. The cabin is in Spearfish Canyon and the walls of the canyon face the front and the back of it. Dave and Andrew love to go for long hikes up to the rim rock where you can look for miles at the beautiful landscape of the Black Hills. They had found another trail and begged me to go on it with them. I wasn’t so sure about it but decided that I would go. Now I have to let it be known that the older I get the more afraid of heights I am. So this wasn’t going to be an easy task for me but I said a prayer and headed up the path.

The first few yards weren’t bad. We were talking and sharing observations with each other and I have to admit it was fun. The trail began to get a little more rugged and the climb steep. My breath became more labored but manageable. We had been climbing for quite a while when we stopped and my husband said turn around and look at the view. BIG MISTAKE!!! The only thing I saw was how far up the canyon we had climbed and how far down to the bottom we could fall. The hike suddenly became a path of resistance. I no longer wanted to talk, observe or view the scenery. I went into a panic and anxiety filled me. I became frozen. Dave and Andrew continued to talk about how high we had come, how beautiful it was and how fresh the air smelled as I sat completely still on a boulder. The only thought that was going through my mind was how in the world I was going to go back down that trail and would it really be that much of a problem if a helicopter could just hover over head, drop a basket that I could climb into and then take me back to the cabin?

Dave interrupted my thoughts by telling me it was time to continue up. I believe I gave him a look that said it all. There was no way I was going anywhere and especially going up that trail. It was over and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He started giving me the “pep talk” filled with encouraging words. I wasn’t listening and then Andrew joined in by trying to tell me that it wasn’t that far to go to the top. Tears filled my eyes and I silently prayed to God to just lift me off the boulder and place my feet on the ground below. I begged him for a miracle so that I wouldn’t have to face climbing down.

Dave soon realized that I was serious and told me that he would help me by being right in front of me and that we would take it very slow. We started down and I held on to him tightly. Each step felt like it was the last and at times I had to remind myself to breathe. When we finally reached the part of the path where it was easy I felt my body begin to shake. I had been so scared that I had tensed up every muscle.

Dave and Andrew love the adventure, exhilaration and challenge that they face when hiking and I hope they never lose those feelings.

I on the other hand, enjoy walking the path of least resistance. I don’t have to struggle to communicate with the person I am walking with. My words are not labored, my voice is not strained and my heart beats a steady thump-thump. The path is tranquil, serene and smooth. There are no logs to climb over, boulders to scale or tree branches swishing back into my face.

This is also the path that I enjoy the most when walking with God. I’ve walked down into those deep valleys with him and up those mountain trails. Those are the times that I don’t think twice about asking for his help. God has held my hand, pushed me up, carried me down and given me a pep talk filled with encouraging words every time. But the path that I really enjoy and sometimes forget that he is on with me is the path of least resistance. The path where there are no deep valleys or mountain top climbs. Sometimes I am walking on the path looking straight ahead and out of the corner of my eye I see his gentle face and his hand reaching for mine. “I forgot you were here”, I say as I place my hand into his. He turns his face to mine and says, “Child, I am always here, always near, never more than a heartbeat away. Take my hand and tell me about your day.”

Blessings,
Jill

Becoming Uncomfortable

Dear Bloggie Friends,

I wanted to share my message with all of you that I gave yesterday at Grace United Methodist Church where I am the Director of Women's Ministry. The title of the message is "Becoming Uncomfortable" from John 12:20-33 (NLT). Click on this link to watch the video http://vimeo.com/39150062

Blessings,
Jill

Has Anyone Seen My Sneakers?

Made to Crave - Day 20

In May of 2010 I made a decision to start walking and to lose the excess pounds that I had been carrying around for the past years. My daughter was going to be getting married in October of 2010 and I did not want to go shopping for a dress and spend most of my time standing in the dressing room with a beautiful dress on that was too small while tears streamed down my cheeks. Been there, done that!!

So I joined Weight Watchers and started walking a 5.6 mile loop. That first day I thought I was going to die! I am not kidding you. It was the hardest thing I had done in a very long time. At one point I know that I was crying out to God for someone, anyone to come by and offer me a ride home. God wouldn’t allow it. I got home and collapsed. The next day I put on my sneakers and headed out the door, very sore and asking myself if it was really worth it. It was and I continued doing it every day. Even on the days that the temperature reached 100 I was walking. The weight started to come off and my husband decided to join me. We would have times of walking and talking or just walking and being quiet. We encouraged one another and by the time of the wedding I had lost 35 pounds.

I will never forget the feeling of finding the dress I would wear for the wedding. It was the first dress I tried on and it was a size 10. Not a 16 but a 10 and I felt beautiful. I did cry that day in the dressing room but the tears that fell on my face were tears of joy and accomplishment. I had stayed focused on the goal and I had achieved it. I was so proud of myself.

The only problem with the goal that I made for myself was that when the wedding was over, so was my goal. I found myself not having anything to work for. I still needed to lose about 10 pounds to get where I wanted to but I didn’t have anything to help keep me motivated. My husband and I joined a gym when winter came and we were good about going and I maintained my weight. When spring came I thought that I would just get back outside and walk but I didn’t. I started to make excuses that I was too busy or it was too hot or I was too tired. I stopped walking and I started eating. I have now gained back 20 pounds of what I had lost and I am miserable.

I continue to come up with every excuse possible to not walk and to not eat healthy. But then I read the scripture passage from 1 Corinthians 6:19, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought with a price. Therefore, honor God with your body.”

My body is a temple and I am to honor God by taking care of it. Wow, that stung. I haven’t been honoring my body but dishonoring God. God sent Jesus to walk this earth and to die on the cross for me. Christ felt the pain of death on that cross. He felt the pain of the nails being driven into his hands and his feet, the thorns piercing his head and the sword cutting his side. When I picture Christ’s pain I realize that I no longer can use the excuse that I am too tired, it is too hot or I am too busy. Christ suffered so that I wouldn’t have to suffer. My being uncomfortable is no longer an excuse I want to make. My heart has been divided, one side knowing that I need to honor God but the other side being loyal to my cravings.

So now I will turn to God with my heart and pray that He will help me. “Teach me your way, O Lord, and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name. I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever.” (Psalm 86:11-12). I can no longer be loyal to my cravings, desires, and excuses for not exercising; I will now be committed to being loyal to honoring God with my body which is a temple of the Holy Spirit.

"Has anyone seen my sneakers?"

Blessings,
Jill