The Uncompromising Cross

“The cross effects its ends by destroying one established pattern, the victim’s, and creating another pattern, its own. Thus it always has its way. It wins by defeating its opponent and imposing its will upon him. It always dominates. It never compromises, never dickers nor confers, never surrenders a point for the sake of peace. It cares not for peace; it cares only to end its opposition as fast as possible.” ~ A.W. Tozer, The Radical Cross

Jesus Christ knew all these things about the cross when He pleaded, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” Luke 22:42 (NIV).

As Jesus looked toward the cross He knew the cost. He rightly anticipated the pain involved in dying a cruel death normally reserved for criminals. For this reason He begged his father to allow Him to escape the cross, although He quickly added His willingness to conform to God’s will. Two verses later Luke says that Jesus was earnestly praying in anguish, so much so that great drops of sweat fell like blood to the ground.

I am comforted by these portrayals of Jesus as He faced crucifixion. I am comforted knowing that He experienced a full range of human emotions. I am comforted knowing that the matter of the cross wasn’t easy, even for Him. I am comforted in realizing that He does not ask of me anything that He himself hasn’t already experienced.

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23 (NIV).

What of This Cross?

What of this cross that lies across my way,
imploring that myself I should betray?
It reeks of putrid death; foreshadows pain.
Is that my name engraved across its grain?

What of this cross? I find it interferes
with plans, belongings, all that I hold dear.
Must every precious treasure be laid down?
Is there indeed no other way around?

What of this cross that emulates my Lord’s,
yet sparks among my loved ones such discord?
Fighting, dissension, arguments, and hate
-this cross does not bring peace, but separates.

What of this cross that makes my footsteps halt?
I must decide to die or to default;
Every allegiance I must now disown;
take up this cross, and carry it alone.

This cross I’ll bear and boast of only He
who leads the way and spilled His blood for me.
I shall not hesitate nor breathe a sigh;
but gain my life when Self commits to die.

~Sharlyn Guthrie

Today I am "preparing for Easter" along with Ann Voskamp and her friends at Holy Experience. I hope you will take time to visit her and check out some other posts on this topic.

A Sheep's Tale

A Sheep's Tale
by Sharlyn Guthrie

I often wandered willfully
too near the rocky edge.
That’s how I lost my footing
and landed on the ledge,
entangled in the briars,
held fast by doubt and fear.
The Shepherd called with ardor.
I pretended not to hear.

The enemy approached me
dressed boldly in sheep clothes.
I smelled his acrid odor
and glimpsed his pointed nose.
His raspy voice implored me
to view the grassy glen
where lively lambs romped blithely
outside his wild wolf den.

The slopes were too confining.
I yearned to kick my heels.
I ventured to the valley
to learn how freedom feels.
I went just for a visit.
I never planned to stay.
The enemy enticed me
with his lies along the way.

The Shepherd kept on calling
and I started to look up,
but the enemy entreated me
to drink from pleasure’s cup.
The last of my resistance
dissolved before my eyes.
Pleasure dulled my senses,
silencing the Shepherd’s cries.

The valley was more dismal
than it seemed from up above.
I missed the Shepherd’s surety
and his tender words of love.
But how could I return to Him?
The climb was rough and steep,
and I’d surely face the judgment
of the other mountain sheep.

Then I fell into a pit
and sunk deep into the slime.
The walls were high, and wet, and slick
…too difficult to climb.
Others sneered and scoffed at me.
My wool was foul and torn.
Nights were filled with terror,
and days with cruel scorn.

There my shepherd found me,
in that lonely, shameful place.
He reached down through the muck
and drew me into his embrace.
At the stream he healed my spirit
and washed me clean and pure.
On the rock-hard path of righteousness
he set my feet, secure.

My rescue cost a hefty price
I found out, to my shame.
The wounds my shepherd suffered
left deep scars that bore my name.
Still, he held a celebration
when at last I reached the fold.
He will do the same for you.
That is why this tale was told.


“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” Psalm 40:2 (NIV)




Today I am joining Ann Voskamp for Walk With Him Wednesday. The topic is "Sinners Repenting," -fitting for Ash Wednesday, don't you think?