I’m uncomfortable here in this world.
This world where children die and people hurt one another and justice is denied and babies go hungry.
I long for the day prophesied in Isaiah when the lion will lie down with the lamb, swords will be ploughshares and death will be banished forever.
All I want is to know Christ and to experience the power of his resurrection, to share in his sufferings and become like him in his death, in the hope that I myself will be raised from death to life.
Philippians 3:10-11 GNT
He wasn’t only talking about the final resurrection, when all in Christ shall rise and reign forever with their Savior.
He was also talking about the earthly resurrection-of life breathed into who we are and what we do by the Spirit of God living in us.
It’s exciting to think about the life of Christ residing in me. It’s not so exciting to consider the death of self that must precede that life.
Without death, there is no resurrection.
Without destruction, there is no restoration.
Without surrender, there is no victory.
My heart rebels against this.
I want life without death. I want resurrection power without the grave. I want to know Jesus more intimately without being stripped bare and standing naked before Him.
But that is impossible.
To be a follower of the Crucified means , sooner or later, a personal encounter with the cross. And the cross always entails loss. The great symbol of Christianity means sacrifice and no one who calls himself a Christian can evade this stark fact.
I realized very soon after the news of Dominic’s death reached my ears that the last vestige of pride had been ripped from my heart by force.
I was, and am, in the dust.
I cannot raise myself from this prostrate position. I cannot breathe life into this dead body. I cannot, by force of will, pick up and keep going.
I am fully reliant on the God Who made me to give me life.
But Thou, O Lord, art a shield for me, my glory and the lifter up of mine head.
Psalm 3:3 KJV21
This isn’t news to God, it’s always been true.
But He has opened my eyes.
Forced to face the darkness of the grave, I can more fully appreciate the light of His promise.