There is a moment of the cross that sticks so wholeheartedly in my soul that I often return to it. Actually there are several, and this year, a long time in the waiting – we are visiting these moments of the cross several times at Eastercamp.
Tonight, feeling battered and bruised, I’m retreating home and creeping online momentarily to stop writing programme and ideas, and just to write ME for a little bit. I drank and dined with one of the Top Five tonight, like a smooth balm to the soul but a mix of mirth and myrrh.
“You’re so angry,” he said. I have nothing else to say to that. I do feel frustrated and angry about so many things that are small and trivial right now. I have so many dreams outside of my life. If only I had another 40 hours in the week to simply let thoughts unfold. Space for my brain is what’s required. There are too many things in my brain getting cramped.
So, lil’angry me is piling in on top of weary, soul hungry, touch-desperate me. And I’m going back to one of my favourite moments, when Christ looked into the eyes of a criminal, and offered him the solace that the Son of Man couldn’t take for himself.
I think that’s what I feel right now – the pain of giving what I do not have; peace, love and joy.
Hold on little one, hold on.