A Crucifix

A Crucifix

By Ryan Billington

April, 2007

Introduction:

            “Without question, this is the great mystery of our faith:

                        Christ appeared in the flesh

                           And was shown to be righteous by the Spirit

                        He was seen by angels

                           And was announced to the nations.

                        He was believed on in the world…”

                                    - 1 Timothy 3:16

            The word became flesh, and made his dwelling among us… my insight into these words wavers with the wind.  At times I wonder at them, in awe of such a being and such reckless, stupid love.  He makes me laugh, and lights me up inside.  Then a few weeks later I see them, and the felten face of Jesus appears before me, like a cereal box cutout.  No emotion, no thankfulness.  I wonder about my connection with Him, and question His will and guidance in my life.  No, no; I don’t question God.  I question myself…

What am I doing?  What happened to the me that rolled out of bed in the morning for God?  Where is the next step in the ladder?  Must we remain at this impasse? 

A crucifix was made for me—but was stolen by a friend

Who labor much, who loved and lost

Whose life for me did end

Two rough sticks, a wooden cross; why reject pure light for me?

For now I hold these dirty sticks

A tortured love from thee

I’ve hidden it, I’ve forgotten it, but more I’ve rejected You—

The hands that felt the taste of steel

For my chance at life renewed

But no, not yet; I can’t take you—for people, pleasure, pride

A search I’m on to find the point

Of life on sinful side

Wasting ‘way, still I seek the scars you took for me

To find meaning in your death for love

Upon that wooden tree

Stumbling on, though cuts of Time who deals such fatal blows

My control is gone, my mind confused

A soul that’s dying slow

Doubt surrounds and failures mount, Oh God, give me a sign

For though I say that I am Yours

I doubt that Thou art mine

Oh, that I’d be only Yours, of one and steady mind

To live and choose of Thee, my Friend

To breathe through lungs of Thine

And still my choices lingers here, set for all see

You forsook heaven, eternal God

For mere chance to welcome me

Oh God, my Father, save me from my sin

That ere I see those nails and tree

I live to fish for men