Friday, April 20, 2012

At the Foot of the Cross

During my silent retreat this past weekend, I felt like I was on the mountain with Jesus for 3 days.  I am convicted now, more than ever before of His love for me and for each one of us.  I learned that I continually underestimate Him, which with His grace I hope to stop doing!  He is asking me to be bold for Him and to tell you of His great longing to be trusted.  By each and every one of us.  So, as a response to His call, I would like to share my journal entry with you about my experience at the foot of the Cross.

I begin here because it is when everything changed for me. I got it. God loves us and it hurts Him beyond our wildest imagination that we neither love nor trust Him. There are many, many writings I will share with you before this time and a few after, but I have never been more convicted than at the foot of the Cross.

 February 23, 2012 - 8:44pm

I just came in from outside.  I was looking for the moon as Fr. Scott suggested, but I found Jesus instead.  Jesus hanging on the Cross, in the cold, dark night.  I stood under Him and saw the space between His back and the Cross.  I saw His elbow and his stretched shoulder joints.  I saw the nail penetrating His foot, but I could not see His face in the shadow.  His chest seemed to rise and fall just once to remind me that before He died on the Cross, He was alive on the Cross.  Alive and in agony - forgiving us.  How can I fail to trust Him?!  He gave everything.  Not just in a moment, but in thousands of suffering moments.
He did all of that for love.  He asks that we trust Him.  There was NOTHING more He could do.  If we still don't trust Him, what recourse does He have?
Oh, sweet Jesus, please forgive our lack of trust.  You have proven your love.  Help us to prove ours. 
You have suffered so much already.  I shudder at the thought of adding more pain because I'm telling you that your sacrifice wasn't enough.
Please, let me never forget the sight of your naked body hanging on your Cross in the shadows.
Please, don't hide Your face from me.  I love you.

That is the end of the journal entry. It occurred to me later that this was the first time I ever REALLY saw Jesus’ body on the cross.  I wear Him around my neck.  I see Him at Mass and every time I walk in and out of a room.  But, He’s always “over there” or behind the altar.

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