I know that we have all probably heard a million cheesy analogies about Christ and his place in our lives, but something beautiful struck me today.
I was standing on my balcony which is on the third floor of our apartment complex. While standing there the wind picked up and the tree beside our balcony began to sway back and forth. It got me to thinking about how truly cool trees are. I mean, those things can (sometimes) stand up to hurricane force winds and be perfectly fine. They can weather the seasons and only grow stronger. So I thought…”I want to be a tree.”
That does sound a little weird I know. But, as I thought about my life and my devotion to the Kingdom I decided that I want to be a tree for Jesus. And that doesn’t really sound much better does it? I want my roots to run deep into the word. I want my nourishment to come from prayer. I want the seasons of this life to only make me stronger. I don’t want to be swayed and broken by the storms of life.
I want to be like a tree. I want to be strong and unmovable for Papa. My roots may not be super deep yet. But I know that they grow deeper with every trial. With every storm. With every Hurricane.
Papa, thank you for giving me roots. And thank you for continually drawing me deeper and deeper into our Kingdom, and who you are. Make me a tree!
Just as you have heard the cries of David, Papa hear my cries. I am trusting in your steadfast love. I am thankful for you deliverance. Search my heart and know me Papa. Show me who I really am, and show me who you want me to be. Do not let my mind and my soul go down into the pit. Guard my heart in righteousness. Deliver me from those that would see me parish apart from you. Guide me with your steadfast love, and lead me through wise counsel. Thank you for loving me so deeply and abundantly.
You, more than anyone, know my fears. You know know my hopes, my failures, and my deepest desires. Papa, hold me close, comfort me. You are my shield, and my redeemer. You are the breath that my soul needs to survive. I worship you for all that you have done for me, and for all that you have given me. For every breath, I give you praise above all my King.
Teach me to give everything away for your glory. Teach me to pour myself out at the feet of those around me. Let me be humbled by your Grace. By your Love. By your Mercy. Let me love your children with the same intensity that you have loved me.
I come to your fountain to have my cup filled again and again. But, only because I have poured it out by serving your Kingdom. Hold me tightly in your fold my Lord. Continue to pour your mercies on my each day.
Why do I not weep at the site of the Cross? Why does my heart not break when I see the place of torture and death of my Savior? Have I become calloused to the site of a magnificent reminder of such brutality? A resounding yes must echo from my lungs.
I feel that we, as a group of believers, have taken the power of the Cross away from the Cross. Our entire belief system is based off of the fact that Jesus paid the ultimate price of his life on a cross. He was murdered for our transgressions at the hands of an angry mob so that we may live a life of freedom. The Cross is no mere object. It is a source of life.
I must admit guilt on my part. I am a “trendy” Christian. One wall of my living room is decorated with crosses of all shapes and sizes. I was not raised with a true reverence for the cross. I knew what it stood for, of course, but never did it have a resonating heart beat in my soul. And, why is that? It’s because it has become a common site. It is seen on just about anything associated with Christianity. I understand the symbolism, but what about the true meaning?
It has been said the Saint Francis of Assisi could not look upon a cross without weeping. He was heartbroken by the reminder of the love that His Savior displayed for his sinful soul. I want to feel that! I want my soul to yearn for the love of Papa in a way that rocks my world at the site of His Cross.
I am deciding that I will meditate on the love of my Savior, and the amazing sacrifice that he made for me. Will you join me?