Carry, Don’t Drag Your Cross – Women’s Day Special
Tomorrow is going to be the World Women’s Day. Being a woman myself, I sure look forward to it, and to what will be said by relevant authorities tomorrow. But being the second authority in my life, (after God, of course,) I do have some thoughts of my own. Like thoughts about the roles of a woman in society, the responsibilities she has, the place of a woman – elevated and sometimes relegated, and the purpose of a woman, beyond meeting everyone else’s needs. She has dreams and wishes too, fears and hopes, ambitions and needs. And it can get overwhelming sometimes, but the joy of being a woman – especially because a woman is her own healer – is great.
In the same vein, do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by all that you have to do, all that is expected of you, and all you can think in some moments is, “This is not fair!! There has to be more to life than this, oh where did I miss it???!” Well, I believe that these thoughts do cross the minds of each one of us. They sure do cross mine.
The other day, I was thinking about my responsibilities as a wife, mother, employee, church member, etc. it occurred to me that there was quite a lot to do in each one of those areas. It also occurred to me that I had not been forced into any of those situations that I was in, and therefore I had (still have) no legitimate reason to complain about any of these duties.
I could however choose my attitude towards these responsibilities, and choose to be bitter or better. I could choose to be pouty, whiny, angry and miserable about all that I have to do, or I could do it with a good attitude and feel better about myself and be happy about the results.
See, this is MY cross to carry. I could put my cross on my shoulders, bend appropriately, and begin to walk slowly, but still making progress; or I could lay it down, grimace, hold one corner and then drag it. As I drag my cross, I would blow up dust, drag along used up polythene bags, smear mud on my cross, and at the same time, through grazing and breaking, disfigure this beautiful cross that my Lord knew He had given me grace to carry. And blow dust and splash muddy waters on those around.
I’d rather bear the weight of carrying my cross, get tired and plop on my bed for a good night’s sleep, than whine, as I wine and dine with the devil entertaining conversations, pity parties and discouragements. My cross is mine. I was in my right mind when I picked up those responsibilities. I am going to do the right thing, and honor both my cross, and He who went to The Cross for me. In the process, I’ll both honor and bless my permanents, as well as be an inspiration to the world around me – we are called to be salt and light to the world.
Borrowing from the movie I don’t know how she does it, I say that I will not drop my family at a moment’s notice for other things. It’s going to be the other way around. Family first. I’ll willingly pay the price, my cross is too precious to drag; I’ll carry it.