These shadows creep into my soul gradually, and as they do, the piles of work to do get larger, and the dirty laundry basket overflows as I find myself struggling to find the energy to walk up the stairs to take care of such a small chose. These shadows become a comfortable place to hide sometimes, too. They become a reason to expect very little of anything or anyone, pressing me further into myself with each day, so that to engage with the world outside the shadows results in the desire to simply sleep afterwards. Sleep is such solace and these shadows thankfully draw me closer to sleep rather than prevent the escape it provides. Oh, these shadows. I wish the light would push them away for good.
But I’m reminded by David Crowder Band – or, perhaps by God – that this shadow is only temporary. This shadow that creeps into my soul is nothing compared to the enormity of the shelter of a shadow that I stand in daily. It is the shadow of the cross.
I find my rest here in the shadow of the cross. I find my hope here. I find my peace here. I find my Father here. It is in the shadow of the cross that I know that while the shadowy sadness is a reality today, that it is not an eternal reality. In the shadow of the cross we know that we will be home one day and experience this shadowy sadness no longer.
When darkness falls on us,
We will not fear. We will remember.
When all seems lost,
When we’re thrown and we’re tossed.
We’ll remember the cost.
We’re resting in the shadow of the cross.