The Paradox of the Cross

I have come to realize, by the grace of God, that I should not fear man nor the loss of my dignity. The world outside can do me no true harm. When I am nailed to the Cross, I should not weep for myself but for those who drive the nails—not because they are evil, but because their hearts are so hardened that they cannot see the love living within them, and instead blot it out.

I care nothing for my breaking, for in faith I am already saved. What matters is love, and I now see that love is not given only as joy, but also as burden. To love is to lead others to the Cross, praying that their love for God will grow so they too can carry its weight—and then, to help them bear it.

In asking people to turn to God, I ask them to crucify a piece of themselves, to die to the old man. How it breaks my heart, and floods me with tears, because I know the suffering it entails. Yet at the same time it fills me with joy, because I know that in their pain is growth, and in their death is life.