The Cross
When I look at mental anguish I see the soul struggling to find solace. Inner noise is vexation and letting go of the racket is the key to calm. Lack of forgiveness, judgment, and self defense are large contributors to noise pollution. Dwelling on an offense or tightly clinging to a principle is crippling. The cross of Christ is the threshold for letting go. The cross offers energy for living and dying – that which needs to die finds the power to do so, and that which longs for life finds new birth. With the cross as a pen and my heart as the paper, writing is an avenue of healing. But even writing, without the cross, can be just the soul’s inferior coping mechanism.
A hungry soul aches for a place to crucify the accuser and its endless demands. With every cross-less attempt to stop the chaos, 10 more voices amp up the volume. My soul has no way to escape this abuse on her own; forgiveness becomes my true lover and the cross our marriage bed. The kindness of the cross mutes the noise and filters the false from the real. It is my passage to soundness of mind, wholeness, congruity, simplicity and true union. Some may look at the cross and call it crazy – but those who’ve danced with insanity know the difference.