The Cross stands alone at the top of the hill
And in my dream, it is not made of wood
But it is white, alabaster or perhaps marble
It stands tall, high as a skyscraper
With arms spread to embrace the entire world.
There is a light shining from the Cross
A bright light that reaches out from every angle,
And every side of the Cross
And I know that the light is shining so that all
The world can see it.
The Cross beckons us
“Come stand with Me”
But the message it sends is also
A last call.
And people are seeing the Light
They are hearing the message.
From their houses and from the fields
They start on the road to the Cross.
I am on that road
With many of my loved ones.
But there are also ones that are not there
And I cry out, “Wait, Lord, please touch their hearts, now”
“Give them another chance”
And some more come
But others do not.
A sense of urgency overtakes the
Mass of people
We must reach the Cross
It is our only hope for salvation,
For peace in the days to come.
But no one is fighting
There is no jostling for position
Or shoving to gain the lead.
Instead, everyone helps everyone else
The weak lean on the strong
And everyone carries the young.
The road is not smooth
It is rough, tangled with weeds
Strewn with rocks
Anything to slow us down or
Even halt our progression.
And, some fail.
The Cross stands alone at the top of the hill.
Will you come?
Author: Susan Mouw Copyright: 6/19/98