The Cross

Photo by Dave Hoefler on Unsplash.


I remember the cross,

one beam reaching heavenward,

stretching all the way into the skies,

the other beam reaching out,

horizon to horizon,

all the way around the world.

My head at its splintered base

where your blood has dripped down and stained,

its stake implanted deeply in my heart,

to the center of my naked shame, humiliation, regret

haunting me from the past,

my rebellion, my idol —


I remember it is my sin, my shame,

my punishment, my judgement,

my death that you died,

hanging on the cross.

My wondrous God who died for me,

gentle and pure as a Lamb,

because you wanted to be in relationship with me.

I’ll always keep trusting,

I’ll always believe,

my heart wrapped around the splintered beams,

its stake drove into me —

past, present, and future,

I have been crucified with Messiah,

and I no longer live,

but the risen Messiah lives within me!

And the life I live in the body,

I live by faith in the Son of God

who loved me and gave Himself for me.

The old has gone, and the new is now —

I am a new creation in Messiah!