My Cross

The command- “Take up your cross and follow me”- is familiar to most. I’ve always read this as simply the cross of Christianity. Although not always, but most times in our society, this cross doesn’t carry too much weight to bear. We live in a world familiar with Christianity. And in my world of the South, it’s pretty well accepted. Carrying this cross hasn’t cost me or caused me hardship.

It’s only been in the past few years that I’ve begun to see this command differently. I believe that our cross is not simply Christianity, but also our current situation. Since becoming a mom, and then a mom of 3, my cross has changed many times, if not daily. Some days, it’s light. It’s playtime and story time. It’s play dates and sunshine. On other days, it’s so heavy. It’s sickness and tantrums. It’s teething and sleep training and lots of tears. At this exact moment, it’s the tremendous weight of learning to take turns.

The term “take up” has also began to make me take notice. The verb isn’t pull or  drag; it says take up. As in, pick up and carry. Not begrudgingly drag behind you.

So, not only am I told to make my way with  my cross of the day, but I’m told to carry the weight and continue forward. I’m told to persevere.

Even though the weight is quite heavy many days, knowing this makes it seem bearable. Knowing that I am carrying MY cross and carrying it to the best of my abilities makes the weight just a little lighter.


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