On A Hill Not So Far Away

     We have had some truly awesome church services lately. The kind where you can’t wait to get back to see what happens next! The kind where you pray the Lord lets you participate, and yet you’re scared to death that he’ll ask you do something. Yesterday was such a day for me.
     I knew what I had to do as soon as The Cross came out. It had been brought out before and I didn’t do anything, so I knew I had to take my turn carrying it this time. I felt a little uneasy because I saw only men carrying The Cross. What in the world will they think if I try it? I overcame that one pretty quick (I’m getting better at not caring what others think of my style of worship). My next objection was, "It looks too heavy." I’m not the strongest by any means and I didn’t want to make a complete idiot of myself. I had just about talked myself out of doing anything when my son and his friend looked at me and said "I want to carry The Cross." That was all it took.
     It’s amazing how the Lord blocks certain things from your memory. I don’t remember anything after I stood up. Was it because I was so full of the Spirit that my normal body couldn’t handle it? I’ve had that happen before with testimonies. Or is He shielding me from having to relive a very embarrassing moment? Maybe I did make a fool of myself and He knows I couldn’t handle that either. I’m praying it’s the former and not the latter!
     But, you know, I still don’t know how heavy The Cross is. I’ll never know if I could have handled it on my own. Oh, I’m sure I could have dragged it and bounced it not-so-gracefully up the aisle and back. But I didn’t have to. I had help (and they probably carried the heavier end). It’s a lot like the Lord bearing so much of my burden and keeping so many things at bay, that I’ll never fully comprehend just how truly blessed I am. I also realized my little man is a lot stronger than I thought. And he’s got good friends to help him carry his cross, or the cross of those he chooses to help.