Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
-Matthew 16:24
Deny yourself and pick up your cross.
I love how specific Jesus is and how much he challenges the individual. He doesn’t say you must do X, Y, and Z, He says, “Let go of your ego and find your meaning.”
I did this when I left my career in proofreading and editing to care for my young sons. I liked my job and believed I was on the right path for myself and my family. It was scary to let go of this path that I had worked hard to find. Without a college degree, I had to be creative in building a portfolio and somehow managing to get an interview. I was proud of those efforts and started to define myself by my “work.”
The fear left me on that first day home alone with my sons. God put it on my heart that I was meant to be the sole caretaker of these boys, at least while my wife was at her job.
But identity and ego have a way of coalescing around challenges. I refused labels outwardly, but sure thought of myself as a “fulltime dad.”
Homeschooling was the next cross for me. This was more intentional than my caregiver role and I saw it as an unpaid promotion in my role as father. Between widowhood and homeschooling, homeschooling was the more difficult, if only for it coming first on my timeline.
Home education was where I faced the most failures and mistakes and fear in any discipline. Mastering those, especially the fear, made it possible for me to find comfort in humility and accept Jesus Christ into my heart. If I hadn’t experienced that arduous journey, widowhood could have finished me.
Routine and comfort just aren’t for me. I stripped down to my underwear and swam in that lake this morning between the full moon and the rising son. I didn’t want to and it’s hard to articulate why I did. I was cozy in pajama pants and a hoodie.
Cozy doesn’t set well with my restlessness. I know there are storms to weather. I prefer to learn my lessons in the voluntary tumults and gain the necessary wisdom for the surprise lightning strikes.
I’ll be home soon in a cluttered space. Another cross to bear as I prepare for greater responsibility.
There is always another cross. I look forward to becoming worthy of the next burden.