“(For the ancient Celtic Christians) …A cross within or breaking through a circle spoke of the glory of Jesus transforming every aspect of creation.”- Karen J Lowe

These crosses were more than memorial stones, they were bold, creative declarations.  This cross told a story that called forth a response. I want to carry the story of the cross on the inside of me that calls forth a response and transforms the world around me.

The cross was not the end. It was the beginning of all things being made new.  It was the climax of the story, not its ending.  And if the cross was the climax, the empty tomb was the denouement of it all.

I just like the word.  Denouement.  Pronounced day-nu-ma.  It is a literary term meaning the solution of the mystery, the outcome, the end result, the sequence following the climax of a drama where resolution is reached.  In the case of the resurrection story it is the point when Jesus steps out of the tomb to leave death an empty grave.

The first walk with God in the garden was a walk of intimacy.  Adam and God. Until the choice was made that would plunge creation into chaos.  Next time we read of God the Son walking in the garden, it was a walk of humility.  The will that was lost, given away to evil, by the first Adam was regained by the Second in an agonizing “not my will but Yours be done.”  {How many times do I fight for my will when His is better, always infinitely better?}

And then Jesus walked out of the tomb into another garden in victory so that we could be embraced by Him for eternity.  And that eternity starts now. And so we are sent out in authority to walk the land with Him, the story of the cross written on our hearts, us no longer alive in ourselves but yet bursting with His Life, with freedom and all that is good and true and Him.

This resurrection journey: intimacy, humility, victory, eternity, authority all interwoven expressions of His matchless, endless grace.  May I walk these paths with Him everyday.

I want my life to be a signpost of heaven.  Like the ancient Celtic crosses that dotted the landscape in the days of Columba and Patrick.  These were not symbols of an ultimatum but rather an invitation.  Come walk with us and meet the ever-present, always-good God who deeply, intimately loves you.  Who numbers your hairs and knows your rising and sitting before you do.

Come aside and learn of the story.  The plot, the mystery, the climax and yes the denouement of the ages we live and breathe and move in.  HE is the fulfillment of all the promises and in Him all things hold together.  Even our stories, even our lives.  His glory seeping out through surrendered vessels to transform a broken creation crying out for sons and daughters of God fully manifested, fully made known.

May I be one of these.  The cross-story etched in my heart, His resurrection glory circumscribing, transforming my dust, and even the world around me as I walk with Him, stepping lightly but boldly in love on fragmented lands that they may become whole, running to the margins, seeing the unseen, hearing the voiceless cries in the night, following this wild unpaved road with One Who is not at all tame or safe, but in all ways good.

May He bless you with new life springing forth today and always.  I am always so grateful for you, that we can journey these miles together.

With love from this unpaved road,