Going Where I Do Not Want to Go
“... take up your cross ...”
The last time I saw my father was the first time I saw him dead. It was not of my choosing to stand by his bed and tell him goodbye.
It had been a harrowing day. He was killed about 6 hours earlier in an accident while mowing his yard that he had mowed for almost 50 summers before. Most days since then, I notice the clock—4:10 pm. Standing there, I knew that I would never hear him, see him, smell him, or touch him again. I was jarred to think that the rest of my life would be lived without my father, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was in a place I did not want to be.
The most prominent sensation I have had since then is the feeling that I am left hanging—suspended. Not only am I left hanging, I do not know what to do. That’s been the most painful part.
While it may sound like a cliche, part of me was killed with my father. Also, I did not choose the consequences of his death on me. Suddenly, i was hoisted, suspended, hung, if you will, on a cross I did not choose.
What do I do?
Well, I do the only thing I know to do: I take it. Oh, I don’t mean like a stoic. I mean I take the crucifixion that a cross of any kind is meant to bring. While suspended on this cross between heaven and earth, not wanting it, and not choosing it, I take it like Christ Jesus did. I’ll follow Him who loves me so!
So, here I hang upon the One Who hangs upon the cross! Hopefully considering what’s next. Wherever God leads, I’ll go.