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TITLE: The Shadow of the Cross By Elizabeth White 04/17/07 |
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A celebration,
Happiness.
The cross,
Adorned with glory,
Yet unknown for it’s truth.
Caught in the festivities,
Caught up in celebration,
Do we forget,
The meaning of the cross.
So often,
We look upon the cross,
The one portrayed in light,
Adorned with jewels,
The majesty of our king.
And yet,
So often we fail to see,
What was left behind,
In the shadow of the cross.
It’s Sunday morning,
The children awake,
Happiness,
And yet,
Such a counterfeit joy,
The truth,
Stolen,
Lost,
In the forgotten reality.
Do we ever imagine,
What it must have been like,
Fear,
Despair,
Could they dare to believe,
To trust,
Or would their hopes come crashing down once more.
The truth behind the cross,
The pain,
The suffering,
Yet,
The joy,
True joy and hope,
So often misplaced in this counterfeit world.
Once again,
I find myself,
In the shadow of the cross,
Amidst suffering,
Darkness,
I cannot see you.
The cross,
My choice,
Will I choose to follow you,
To live for you,
To suffer with you.
My cross,
Is not,
A colourful picture,
Or the counterfeit happiness offered by this world.
My cross,
Is truth,
Hope,
Joy,
Amidst suffering.
Faith,
It isn’t easy,
But it is the only truth,
The only path.
Once again,
I find myself,
In the shadow of the cross,
My choice,
I choose to follow you.
The choice remains,
It is yours alone,
He chose the cross.
Once again,
In the shadow of the cross,
Will you choose,
To take up your own cross,
And follow him?
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