It's broken and flimsy, just like me"

"Really Dangaran, we have to do this?"

That was racing through my mind last Thursday evening. I'm sure I wasn't the only one. Yet, part of me was excited. What would this experiment bring? What conversations would happen because of it? How would it spark peoples thoughts?

I wanted my cross to be unique. I wanted it to stand out, and my heart was happy when compliments began to flood in from my fellow students, "wow Jon, your cross is my favorite."

The next day was interesting. As most of you know, I ride my bike everywhere. As I pulled out onto River road, the main street in Keizer, cross strapped to my back, I immediately felt the pressure of the symbol I had. I was labeled. At first this was uncomfortable. I was waiting for the "F#*! you's! Or the "Go to Hell's," but they didn't come. In fact, one man shouted at me, "praise the Lord!" I was encouraged by this. I was also encouraged by the fact that by the time I had rode to Broadway and back, hundreds of people had seen the cross. My guess is that in almost every person that saw it, some thought was sparked. Maybe it was negative, maybe it was positive, yet, either way, the thought of Jesus crossed their minds that wasn't there before. I have no idea (and probably never will) the impact wearing the cross while riding made.

Then, my "perfect, unique" cross began to fall apart. It was flimsy. It kept getting pulled apart, only to have to be put back together again. I found myself taking shoe strings to tie it together, but nothing seemed to work. This thing was not strong, and it was broken.

Wait a minute, is there a connection here?

Yup.

Soon, I found myself responding to those who made a remark about my cross with, "it's broken and flimsy, just like me." This really hit with me, and I hope it was encouraging for others.

In my life, I want to stand out. I want praise. I want people to affirm me and regard me as a "good christian." Not all of this is necessarily bad in and of itself, but this has definitely been an idol in my life (acceptance of people) and that is not okay.

So, as I walked around most of the week with a cross that constantly fell apart, that would dramatically bend and become disfigured at the slightest movement, and which eventually completely fell apart, unable for repair. This was a wonderful reminder and a symbol to to others,

"This cross is broken and flimsy, just like me, yet, it symbolizes the love that came down and bled for me because of my brokenness. In him, I am sweetly broken."

Alright Dangaran and Roth, I get it. It's been good. Thank you, and thank you Holy Spirit for speaking through it and pointing me to Jesus.