I see you Mom, hunched over your tepid tea flipping through yesterday’s mail while voices from the television echo from across the hall. Strewn socks leave trail marks of your children’s once overwhelming presence, now vacant in the room. The quiet void, the empty stillness, it reveals your soul neglect, the way you’ve pushed off self-care and over compensated for love, because you want to. Now it’s time to think about you.

Sure your mind is swirling with questions; worries about how they’ll manage navigating without you, the unknowns of new friendships, and their feelings of frailness among the overbearing in the room. But let me tell you something.

The Cross towers over it all.

I see you Dad, staring into space while the car idles, avoiding the truth and expressing emotion, the scabs of your wounds thick with disappointment and regret. You think cracking it all open will be the end of you; the sight of your vulnerability too ugly; the aroma of re-opening festering heart lacerations too repulsive for those who know you. Don’t believe it. That’s a lie. Let me tell you something.

The Cross stands above it all.

I see you, young life, walking down the halls worried and winsome, trying to fit in where you already belong. Looking for love and acceptance from the broken, lost, fearful and timid wearing social graces like a crown. You’re about to trade who you are for who you think they want you to be and let me tell you something. Don’t do it. The world needs what you have.

The Cross towers over it all.

I see you friend, in your private loneliness sipping your second stemmed glass of white, last night’s bottle of red hidden under the trash in the kitchen. Your pre-disposition toward numbing – scrolling through news feeds and status updates, mindlessly channel surfing and shopping – with the hope of validation or a good laugh to gloss over the ache. Mostly you’re longing for someone or something to tell you, “You’re enough.”Let me tell you something.

You are. You’re enough. Because He is enough.

The Cross stands above all the ways you doubt yourself.

He is abundantly with you, filling the emptiness, even now, making all things new.

This post inspired by the lyrics of The Cross Stands by Tim Hughes for Worship Central on many tear-filled walks for the glory of it all.

Linking with Jennifer and Emily.