The Shadow of The Cross

I dream of a life unhindered by handicaps and disease. A life where any mountain can be climbed and any river can be swam… Where my child spends his time on playgrounds not waiting rooms and when he hears his name being called it’s me telling him dinner is ready, not a nurse telling him the doctor is ready to see him. 

But I guess the place that I’m dreaming of mirrors Heaven more than it mirrors Earth… 

Sometimes a diagnosis will sneak into our lives and attempt to convince us that our old familiar friend “pain” is the one in the driver's seat dictating the route… As if we’re on a one-way road titled “Suffering blvd” and despite desperately wishing there was another way for the journey, we know deep in our bones that the only route forward is pressing through…

Then out of nowhere we’ll come to an intersection and as we come to a stop we’ll realize where we once saw the shape of an X, we now see the shadow of the cross… where Heaven begins to intersect with our suffering and His Emmanuel presence becomes real. 

And maybe that’s why the stop sign on “Suffering Blvd” is bright red? To remind us of the blood that made a way and intersects with our reality, reminding us of the final destination. 

And as we catch ourselves dreaming of the life we wish to be living, we’ll know deep in our bones Hope is the one navigating the journey and that we’d never endure something Love hasn’t already conquered… so we gather the messy baggage of our hearts and decide maybe He meant it when He said blessed are the poor in spirit… so we setup shop in the shadow of His wing and abide… Knowing it’s the dreaming and the suffering and the hoping that presses out the oil to pour at Heaven’s feet.