Crossroads

In the past week, we've had some good God moments, particularly pertaining to the cross.

• My daughter is working on an art project at school that will be a model of them 20 years from now. They've made paper mache heads of what they think they will look at 30 years old and they've placed the heads on 2x4's that will be their body and arms. She had to lug it home on day after school so that she could dress it in the profession she thinks it would be cool to have. Later that night she told us about carrying it home, about how heavy it was and about how she just wanted to leave it there on the sidewalk. With an expression of reverence and a mind on the cusp of understanding, she stated, "I know my cross wasn't nearly as heavy as Jesus' cross, but I think I know what it might have felt like for Jesus when he was forced to carry his cross up that hill." We had a great discussion in the difference of bodies, mind and spirit between the two of them and their cross-carrying jobs.
• My daughter, in writing a card for her Grandma's birthday, asked if she could put a cross on the top with a heart around it. I said it was her letter and she could decorate it however she chose to decorate it, but I did ask her why she wanted to do it. She just smiled and said, "I like the cross." And that was enough for me.
• My son, while eating dinner last night, took a couple of his thick steak fries and put them together. "Look Mom! I made the cross!" Then he took another one, laid it on top and excited trilled, "Look, Mom! It's Jesus on the cross!" And then he ate them.

I'll take these "crossroads" however and whenever I can get them...