The Cross
On Good Friday at church we had an opportunity to write our ‘stuff’ on a piece of paper and nail it to one of the wooden crosses we had at the front. I have been involved in services where they did something like that before but I have never actually done it. Somehow actually taking a nail and hammering it into the cross (even a modern representation of one) seemed like it was a little over the top. Plus I have never been very good about engaging some symbolic act of faith. This time I did it. I don’t know why this time was different specifically. Maybe I was just sick of my life the way it was. Or maybe the gathering was just structured in such a way where I really felt like I didn’t have a choice. Whatever the reason was I actually took it seriously. I wrote from my heart about the things I share with very few people. I walked up to the cross, took a nail, and hammered the nail until it was flush with the cross. I had about a mustard seed of faith that something would ever ...