There are seasons when the soul feels parched—when the journey stretches long and the heart grows weary. In those moments, it’s easy to cry out, to question, to feel forgotten. And yet, even in our rebellion, God does not abandon us. He offers healing in the most unexpected way: through the very thing that wounds us, lifted high and transformed.
The Cross is that paradox. A symbol of suffering, yes—but also of mercy. It is where love chose to descend, to empty itself, to become obedient even unto death. And because of that surrender, the Cross becomes the doorway to life.
We are invited to gaze upon it—not just with our eyes, but with our hearts. To remember that healing comes not through escape, but through encounter. Through surrender. Through love that does not let go.
Even when our hearts falter, even when our words flatter but our faith wavers, God remains merciful. He turns back his anger. He forgives. He stays.
To be lifted up is not to be exalted in pride, but to be raised in love. To be seen, healed, and held. And in that gaze—upon the mystery of mercy—we begin to live again.
Smitten With Goodness 