Return to the Cross

I came upon the tree in the field, but couldn’t see what I was searching for. 

Where did it go?

I took a second glance at the spot where it had been before. I walked around the tree, brushed aside some grass — and there it was. Laying flat on the ground amongst clumps of damp grass and weeds and faded autumn leaves. Weathered and worn from years of heavy rains and blankets of snow — the cross.

This cross — a small, simple, homemade one, two pieces of wood held together by a rusty nail — marks the resting place of a friend I had when I was a child. An injured bunny who had been in my life for only a day but was etched upon my heart forever. A helpless creature, huddled in the corner of a small cardboard box, marks from an animal attack easy to see on its little body…

Deer quietly eating in the yard, birds chirping and flying from tree to tree, rabbits hopping, butterflies fluttering — scenes that warm my heart when they pass me by — can so easily be replaced by more grotesque images: predators tearing at flesh, carcasses torn and rotting at the side of the road…

I am reminded of how God’s beautiful creation has paid the price for the sin that we brought upon ourselves.

“‘There is only cursing, lying and murder, stealing and adultery; they break all bounds, and bloodshed follows bloodshed. Because of this the land mourns, and all who live in it waste away; the beasts of the field and the birds of the air and the fish of the sea are dying.’”

Hosea 4:1b-3

I see them suffering, dying, living to survive each and every day under the threat of stronger foes.

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And in this sad image, I see me. I see mankind. I see a race of people that can give in far too much to its bitterness, its selfishness, its pride. A race of people that can so easily stalk and attack and destroy one another. A race that can kill with an idea and murder in a word. A race that can be so immune to those it hurts in the process…

A race that can push aside and ignore the power of the humble cross. The cross stained with the blood of the Holy One, who placed himself in harm’s way for the sake of a humanity that could not save itself. The blood of redemption that continues to cry out,

“Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God. Your sins have been your downfall! Take word with you and return to the Lord. Say to him: ‘Forgive all our sins and receive us graciously, that we may offer the fruit of our lips.’”

Hosea 14:1-2

Dear friends, is the cross laying flat in our hearts: forgotten, untended, covered by the debris of “everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles” (Hebrews 12:1)?

Dear brothers and sisters, let us return — and with the strength of the Lord pick up our crosses once more.

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Photo by Jenni Mickelson