Holy week stretches before us like the untrodden Calvary road.
And next Sunday, millions of us will sit in pews around the world and hear the redemption story again. We’ll relive the prayer in the garden, the crown of thorns, the whip tearing flesh.
Tears will be shed; hearts will bleed repentance.
Then the sun will set, the earth will turn to darkness and Monday morning will dawn bringing with it lunches to pack and carpools to catch. The rituals and traditions will be forgotten, the candles put away, the resolutions to live more for Him, to love Him more will be shoved lower on the to-do list.
Every year, I sit in the pews with a lump in my throat when I hear the beautiful hymns and verses of my Savior’s love and I’m determined to live more for Him but come Monday morning, I go back to my easy lifestyle inside my comfort zone and wouldn’t He like this to be different?
Wouldn’t the Man who unselfishly left heaven’s splendor to walk down hell’s corridors so I didn’t have to, deserve a little more from me than a few tears of gratitude?
I’m afraid I’m gospel-hardened because this story, although it moves me within, sometimes fails to move me without and love isn’t really love until it becomes an action.
And I want it to be different.
So this week, I will sit at the foot of the cross until I understand the depth of what it means. I will slip my shoes off, fall prone, press my face to the ground, straight into the dust of who I am. And when I look up at my Savior, I will feel blood spattering against my cracked lips, dry and thirsty I will come to this Man who brings Life.
Yes, I’m convinced it’s time for the gospel-hardened (maybe that’s you; it’s definitely me) to get dirty at the foot of cross because when we, in humility, recognize our depravity is when the words “you are forgiven” will finally hold the power to break us enough to be built up in His image.
Because nobody can truly travel to Calvary’s hill and come back unchanged.
(For a free printable, to remind you this holy week, click here.)
What about you? How would you like, come Monday morning, for Calvary to play out in your life?