Dear Friends,

As a Christian, I love the cross. I love the cross. And yet I am prone to race right past it. Past the gore, past the scandal of it, right to the blessedness of resurrection and redemption.

You could never overstate resurrection and redemption.

But when I take a moment to look my friend Jesus in the face, to ponder His life, His sacrifice, I’m brought to my knees at the cross.

Below, in bold, is a chorus I sang about this.
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​How has it come to this?
Jesus You’re bleeding​
Son of the highest
Will You never stop reaching?​

You had already done enough. You sent Your word, You sent Your messengers.

We rejected Your words and killed the prophets who spoke them.

And so You made yourself entirely vulnerable to Your enemies. You took off Your impenetrable armor of divinity and sent Your Word again, this time enfleshed with skin and bone, red hot blood pumping through your veins.

Did you not know what would happen?

Of course You knew.

We rejected, we rejected, we rejected. Why did You keep coming, reaching, desiring?

How has it come to this?

Sometimes we are more comfortable with rulebook religion. With a God who makes clear the right way, then stands unmoved as the masses shuffle blindly toward damnation. They made their choice.

But no, no that’s not You.

You scale every cliff face, every craig and summit. You go after the one. You go after us.

Any who choose separation from You will first have to walk past Golgotha’s hill, where Your bloody, flesh-torn arm is reaching wide still.

Will You never stop reaching?

Today I am in awe. In awe of the beautiful, unyielding, unrelenting love of Jesus on the cross. In awe of the God who reached, and reached, and reaches still. Truly there is none like Him.

— Anna

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