Dog food tastes bad- I don’t even know why I bother with it. This world has nothing for me. All that appears beautiful and satisfying and worth building one’s life on- it’s all a mirage. It’s time to look away from worldly things, to stop lapping out of this dirty dish on the floor, and rise to eat at God’s table. He’s got an amazing banquet waiting for me, it’s what I’ve been longing for my whole life.

The only healthy obsession in this world is Jesus. I’m learning this more and more every day. Other habits, hobbies, relationships and hopes are good in themselves, but as masters they enslave. It’s a daily battle: choosing to live in a truthful reality, recognizing that the cross is my worth, my all, the only solid thing I can cling to.

These last few weeks have been pretty awesome- marked by struggle and intensity, by assurance and growth. A team of twenty-two from Canada came down to put on a kids camp, although for me that was not the highlight. Being able to sit down and catch up and here some seriously God-centered stories- that was encouraging! I just sat there the first night, blown away about the extent to which the Lord has been active in the lives of my friends. Their stories are like banners for each and every disciple; I feel enlightened and proud to be bearing them.

Meanwhile, back in the barrio, things have been dynamic as ever. I have gone from rebelling against God, to fighting the consequences, to feeling terribly ashamed at everyone being able to see my weakness and sin, only to summit again in God’s unfailing love. I feel like Joseph- like God has me thrown into this cistern of relational brokenness to teach and shape me.

He has always seen me through, and even though life is often unpleasant, frustrating and testing, I have recently been hit by the fact that God has always seen my depths. He knows the deepest part of me, still his love was so strong that he gave up his own life rather than see me perish. This sort of justification surpasses humanity altogether- it is truly divine. The sacrifice stands: I am totally forgiven, firm and secure.

Furthermore, my situation is not even worth comparing to Christ. He went through the ultimate humiliation and fall from glory, in order to lift me up, along with every human being in creation. I know, then, that failure can only drive me further into God’s grace. We’re on a journey together and there’s a lot of fighting left, but the victory is his. He has equipped my feet with the gospel of peace, and I will continue to overcome, until I am fully restored and perfect- a mirror reflecting back to God his own boundless energy and glory and wisdom.

“The cross opens its arms to the four winds; it is a signpost for free travelers.”
-G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

I am learning that the cross of Jesus Christ is amazingly central. It marks the turning point in history- the turning point in my existence. It is the difference between life and death; a burning paradox of love and wrath. It is at the very heart of reality; the answer to our deepest questions. On the cross, punishment and freedom collide in a transcendent way, Jesus’ holiness and mercy shining in their utmost brilliance.

When I feel terrible, I look to Jesus- the Creator of the Universe- treasuring me enough to give up his very life. How can I feel worthless? When I feel superior, I look to Jesus coming down and cleaning up the mess I made of my life because I was incompetent, and I am humbled. Success need not inflate me; my personal achievements were never the point.

When I am unable to forgive, I look to Jesus suffering, being beaten and mistreated by his enemies, praying for their redemption. I suddenly realize that Jesus has paid for every dark sin I have ever committed; his blood rests on my hands, and even that has been washed away. God is for me: I refuse to accuse myself and others- somehow all the wrong that could ever be done to me becomes endurable in the light of the gospel. God will see me through.

In these ways I am being freed to walk wide and far in God’s glorious presence. The cross is indeed a signpost for free travelers- it liberates one’s spirit in every way possible. Superiority and Self-Pity- the diseases of Pride- can finally be shrugged off, allowing us to fly higher than we ever dreamed. I’m soaring with my Savior- enjoying his perspective on things- the chains of this world having been loosed.

I’m not sure if any of this makes sense, but it’s all I can do to express where things are at. The profundity and centrality of Jesus’ cross is impacting my relationships and interactions, my priorities and values, my psyche and my soul- everything. It’s like some miraculous fluid spreading out to every extremity and empty room, healing my sight and my speech- my hands and my feet- my heart and my mind.

And it has occurred, mainly, through enormous difficulty and failure- as though God has been saying to me: “You prayed for growth? Let me show you where you need to grow and how it will happen.” His wisdom blows me away.

Every time I fall, expecting some sort of punishment and wincing as the fiery sword of Christ approaches, I find it not searing into my skin but resting gently upon my shoulder. Jesus reaches out his hand to me, asserting: “You are my heir; I am your Master. I am proud of you, and I will never give up on you. This training will continue, through thick and think; I will stop at nothing until you are perfect.” At moments like these, all I can do is bow in thankfulness. Jesus is making all things new.