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I am only left with what is worst in me.
Replete of You,
filled up with me.
Yet I have chosen.
I have chosen crucifixion with You.
No longer alive to the ugly stone heart of me
…but fully alive to the beautiful soft heart of You.
I stumble to the base of the cross.
A sure foundation.
The bedrock on which I build my life.
My arms wrap around coarse wood.
This is what I’ve become.
A hugger of that bloodied tree.
There is a Celtic cross
where it is said
those who can reach around
fingers touching
will receive their wish.
But my only wish is to know You.
To hear your voice say, “This is the way, now walk in it.”
My wish is to fulfill Your wish.
To love like you love,
whether cradling children or turning tables.
And this is what I’ve become,
a hugger of that bloodied tree.
Emptying me of me.
Until there is nothing left of me,
inside of me.
And I think Your thoughts,
Dream Your dreams.
This is what happens when one wishes upon a tree.
When one wraps their arms around a cross.
Embracing His loss
For gain.
And this is what I’ve become,
a hugger of that bloodied tree.
