My wife is watching a movie right now. Near as I can tell it’s a bunch of old British women taking a break from their garden club to discuss whether they want to pose naked for a calendar.
I actually threw up a little while writing that last sentence.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of taking up one’s cross. It is Lent after all. I suppose what’s come to me lately is that it isn’t so much about seeking one’s cross but accepting it. God offers each of us a cross in life. How we carry it or whether we carry it is up to us. I am sure He carries it right along with us. But, we still have to shoulder some of the weight. Perhaps He’s wondering if we’ll carry it like His Son did – opening not our mouths, like a lamb lead to slaughter. Usually I carry mine by bitching about it to anyone who’ll listen.
So what’s my cross? I think it has a lot to do with subjugating my pride on two fronts. I’m a teacher. I’ll never earn a lot of money. I’ll never see the fruits of my labor even. My kids are long gone by the time, 20 years from now, they remember that one thing I said that has an impact on the choices they’ll make. I have two beautiful children I didn’t deserve. I want more, always have.
The cross, I think, for me is needing to let go of the desire to be and have more than what I am and have. The cross comes in letting go. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt. I guess that’s the pain that comes from carrying a cross. I want more and that pride is weighing me down. I want to be great, to be known for something, respected in my field, able to provide for the many children I thought I’d have.
But I suspect Our Lord is saying “Not for you. This isn’t what I want for you.” And there’s a lot of letting go in just trying to accept that. Not understanding His Will but wanting to live according to it is not easy. It’s bizarre because He seems to be saying that what I’m doing is what I’m supposed to be doing. I just don’t get it.
Or maybe the cross today is just the thought of those naked, old Brits. Oh God, one of them is hiding her boobs behind two cupcakes. The imagery is straight out of a crucifixion scene.