By Nita Wilkinson

Faith Editor

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” Matthew 16:24-26

God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.

When God closes a door, He opens a window.

God works in mysterious ways.

Our American culture is really good at Christian platitudes. Maybe every culture has some of these. We know all the inspiring verses in the Bible. We even make some up that aren’t in the Bible.

We want people to find God easy and fun. We want faith to make everything better. There’s only one problem. Jesus wasn’t much of a platitude guy.

He said, “Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow Me.”

Somewhere along the way, I wonder if we have lost sight of the holiness of God. We have softened sin, the very reason God’s redemption plan culminated in Jesus. And perhaps we have forgotten the horror and the heaviness of the cross.

Platitudes won’t feed our souls. Inspiration is fabulous, no one loves a good encouragement or inspiration than me. But it’s the grit and grace of life that lead us closer to God.

That’s where we grow. That’s where our relationship with Him deepens. That’s where we discover that true joy isn’t found in an easy life, but in knowing Him.

Paul understood that. Once he met Jesus on the road to Damascus, his whole life changed. Paul was beaten, imprisoned, shipwrecked and persecuted. In Acts, he says the Holy Spirit warned him that prison and hardships awaited him.

And still he followed.

“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” Philippians 1:21

Most of us will never face what Paul faced. Sometimes taking up our cross happens in much more ordinary places. Like a grocery store parking lot.

The first Thanksgiving we spent back in the United States after living in Japan, I was so excited to have a real Thanksgiving again. A day with family, fabulous food and lots of laughter.

It was the Monday of Thanksgiving week, and I had forgotten just how crowded the grocery store would already be. But I went in armed with my list, my enthusiasm and my visions of the perfect Thanksgiving.

On the way in, I noticed a man standing on the sidewalk. He held a sign with one word.

“Hungry.”

I just kept going. I happily made my way through the store, checking things off my list and thinking about Thanksgiving dinner. Then, while standing in the long checkout line, I remembered him. I decided that when I finished, I would take him to the Burger King nearby and make sure he was well fed.

But when I walked out of the store, he was gone. My first thought was simply, “Oh, bummer. I missed him.”

I loaded my groceries into the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. As I put the key into the ignition, his image came back to me.

Knockoff Carhartts. A blue flannel shirt. A red ball cap.

But I couldn’t remember his face. That realization shook me to my core. I sat in my car and sobbed because my hurry and distraction had caused me to miss the face of a man, a man made in the image of God.

I had seen his sign. I had seen his clothes. I had seen his need. But I hadn’t really seen him. Maybe that’s part of what taking up our cross looks like.

It means my comfort doesn’t always come first. My schedule doesn’t always come first. My plans, my wants and even my perfectly planned Thanksgiving don’t always come first.

Jesus does.

Taking up my cross means surrendering my claim to my own life and saying, “Jesus, where You lead, I will follow.” There’s nothing platitudinous about that.

I will never achieve perfect holiness this side of heaven. But I can choose every day to move closer to the One who is holy. I can meet Him in Scripture. I can meet Him on my knees in prayer. And I can ask Him to teach me to recognize His image in the people standing right in front of me.

Maybe taking up my cross this week won’t look dramatic. Perhaps it will simply mean putting down my agenda long enough to notice someone. Maybe it will mean choosing His way over my comfort, my hurry or my plans.

Because I never want to become so distracted by the life I am building that I fail to see the face of someone made in the image of God. What good is gaining the whole world if, along the way, we stop seeing the people Jesus died for? ■