Come, and Follow Me...

I suppose those of us immersed in the Christian circle have heard a sermon on transformation once or twice…or three times. And as often as we hear it, I wonder how many of us truly live transformed.

I see it in my own life, where the familiarity of the old comes easier than walking in newness of life. It’s easier to not love enemies, easier to change lanes to avoid contact with a homeless person, easier to consume myself with things---well, of myself.

But this is not the life I have been called to. The journey to the Cross is one that begins with death---death to self, to earthly passions and lusts, to anything less than His holiness. I so easily sing ‘lead me to the Cross,’ but do I really behold the gravity of that phrase? Do I truly understand that I cry out for a death to myself?

Most of the time, probably not.

If I did, maybe I would be a little more like salt and light rather than just another face in the crowd.

But there is always more to the Cross than what is seen at face value. And while the journey begins with death, it ends with life. Life changed, life restored, life to the full. And the beauty that pours from the Cross is full of grace and truth.

So while for me death to myself is a daily battle, I will continue to cling to this Cross. And though there are times [many] when I fail to die to myself, I can rest in His promise that He will carry on His work in me to completion. He will continue to transform me, change me, love me to the person I was created to be. The only thing required of me is that I meet Him there.

And so daily, I will continue to walk the path to the Cross. Because the path that begins with death ends at the One who conquered it all.

The hard part, I suppose, is taking that first step.