Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

FMF: Empty

It's been a while since I've written in this blog in part because we've had a lot going on within our family life of late. I really want to get back into the habit of writing on a regular basis, so with that in mind, here's my contribution to this week's linkup at the Five Minute Friday community. This week's word prompt is EMPTY. Given that we've just been through Holy Week, I've been thinking and meditating on Christ's last week on earth and more particularly, on His death and resurrection. This prompt definitely pointed toward all these meditations for me, so that was the inspiration for this. I hope you find something in it to edify and encourage you. Happy Easter!

EMPTY

I have heard quite a few people ask the question of Catholics, “why do you keep Jesus nailed to the cross?” It's a good question. Most non-Catholic Christian churches do not have a cross with Jesus nailed to it. Their crosses are empty. Having grown up Baptist, I was always told that the reason the cross was empty was because He had overcome death. So if the empty cross is a symbol for Jesus having overcome death, then why do Catholics display and wear a crucifix?

There are a number of reasons for this, but the biggest of these is that having Jesus on the cross in front of our eyes makes it so that every time we see it, we are reminded of His great love for us – that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. You see, it is death that we see when we look at a crucifix. It is an agonising, brutal, vicious, torturous death. It is also a beautiful death. That may sound strange, but think of it this way: not only did His death bring about redemption and the possibility of salvation for all of mankind, but He bore that death with the full knowledge that there would be those who would reject His love. When Catholics look at a crucifix, we are moved both by the agony of it and the beauty of it, because we see Him at His most loving.


One of the other things that a crucifix encourages us to do every time we look at it is to persevere as we carry our own crosses. It also encourages us that He is with us in that journey because He has been there and He knows the pain of carrying a cross. He knows it more perfectly and more fully than we will ever begin to fathom. So when we gaze upon the crucified form of Jesus on a cross, we can draw great strength from being reminded that He is with us, helping us to carry the crosses of life.

Finally, there is one Truth that we are reminded of every time we gaze upon a crucifix and that is this: there is no way to heaven but through the cross. To reach heaven, we must go through the cross. We can't go around it. We can't avoid it. We can't ignore it and pretend that it isn't there or that we don't need it. We need to embrace the crucified Christ because His love for us in that moment is what enables us to reach heaven.   
Without the crucifixion, there can be no resurrection and the resurrection – the empty tomb, not the empty cross – is the ultimate symbol of victory over death. That empty tomb is a promise that one day our own tombs will be empty because we will be raised up, our bodies made perfect because of Christ's death and resurrection, and we will be with Him for eternity, enjoying the beatific vision of God the Father.

So we keep Jesus on the cross – not because we are consumed with His death – but rather because seeing Him there is an unavoidable and constant reminder of just how much we are worth to God. When the world tells you that you are worthless or you feel like God doesn't love you or doesn't care about you, I encourage you to go look at a crucifix and meditate on what you see before you.

That, my friends, is the message of the crucifix. The crucifix in all its brutality with Jesus hanging upon the cross is a message of great love and of great hope. We know when we see it that this isn't the end of the story and so the crucifix points us toward the empty tomb and the resurrection. It gives us hope that our own crosses are not the end of our stories. It gives us hope that with His help, we can persevere to the end, having run the race to its completion and having obtained the prize of eternal life.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Five Minute Friday: Still

Note: This post is my weekly contribution to the Five Minute Friday community that is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Click here for more information about Five Minute Friday and how you can get involved! To link up with all the other entries for today's prompt word, click here.

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Here I am Lord. The night is quiet and still and I am here, alone, with You.

How many nights have I been in this wee hours' stillness?
How many of those nights have I waited for You to make your presence known to me?
How many of those nights have seen me with tears streaming down my face in anger and sadness and frustration because You won't come near?

My soul has been so un-still for such a long time. I have wanted to rest in Your stillness, but no matter how often I seek Your face, You are silent.

I have tried to listen in the silence. I have craned my ears, desperately searching for some whisper of You in this dark place. But Your voice is no where to be found. My eyes search for You. My voice calls out for You over and over and over and over. I have begged You from the depths of my being to come and lift me from this place, to let me come close to You again and touch the hem of your garment that I might find healing.

But there is no rest for me. There is no still. There is only silence again and again.

I have searched for you in stillness.
I have been brave.
I have kept my promises.
I have chosen life over and over again when everything in me wanted to swallow down death like water.
I have pursued You even when it was supreme agony for me.
I have followed Your commands and Your desires for me.
I have put my trust in the fact that I know You are there despite my inability to feel You or see You or have any indication of Your presence.

But I am tired. And I need the still, steady peace of Your Holy Spirit to pour over my hurts and bathe every one in Your healing balm. I need Your still hands to bandage my spirit's wounds. I need the stillness of physical, mental, and emotional rest.

I want to believe You still hear me. I want to believe that You still care. But I don't know You anymore. I don't know who You are anymore or where You are or if I will ever fully trust You again.

I want all of these things, but I am still angry.

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Join in the Five Minute Friday party at Kate Motaung's blog!

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Day Twenty-eight: Adrenaline

Note: This is a continuation of a 2-part entry and is a continuation of my story. Please click here for part one. To read the entire 31 Days series, just click on the tab above to access the index page for the series or click here to go straight to Day One.

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The next day I awaken and the dark fog is still there. The emotional anguish is still very present and this despite Gray having stayed home from work to make sure I am safe and his allowing me to sleep in as late as I like. I just don't want to endure this anymore. I fight with this darkness all day long while the big girls are at school and when Gray goes to pick them up from school, it is all I can do to not get in the other car and leave. Instead, I lay in our bed and go back to sleep. Pendragon calls, as promised, a little while after the girls are in from school. I tell him that I am still struggling with suicidal thoughts and urges and I just don't want to do this anymore. We have an appointment the next evening and he asks if I think I will be okay until then. I answer honestly that I don't really know, but maybe. I tell him that I am still struggling with wanting to leave but that I'm fighting it. He asks if I think I need to see him this evening instead of waiting until our appointment. Even though good sense would say, yes, I do need it, I find myself telling him that I will wait. I am not thinking clearly or I would have been more honest with him, but I don't even realise how bad it is.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Doing Death the Southern Way

Where I live in the Southeastern US, we have four season just like the rest of the country. The difference is that our seasons are Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, and Christmas. The upshot of this is that most southerners I know run their air conditioning and/or various electric fans from about late February to early November because it's just so flipping hot. Despite the heat though, life goes on and with it, so does death.

Death in the South isn't just something that happens when someone you love dies (or passes, as we say here). Nope, it's an event. As a child growing up in the South, I have some very clear memories of the unique nature of the aftermath of death in this culture. In the South, the post death protocol is as follows: notification of death, visitation, funeral service, procession, graveside service, and the funeral lunch.