Fields of hidden treasure

The head once crowned with glory, crowned with thorns instead. A crown of humiliation, shame and pain. The thorns lacerating into his tender flesh and drawing blood. It is dark – pitch black. A constant stream of blood dripping down from the cross onto the ground below. The gasps of slow suffocation meet the resistance of nail pierced hands and feet. A man, lashed and beaten beyond recognition. I turn my face away. It’s too awful to behold. I don’t want to look at it. I don’t want to face the reality of his suffering. A thought crosses my mind. I haven’t done anything that bad. I’ve never murdered, I’ve never robbed a bank. I consider myself to be a nice person. The king of glory, Jesus, hangs dying in unrecognisable pain. And I don’t want to admit, or face the reality, that it’s my sin that put him there. I don’t even want to dwell on the brutality of the suffering he endured. That was the cost of my sin. That was the cost of my shame. That was the depth of m...

We live in a world where the assertion and realisation of our individual rights is paramount. A woman’s choice over her body is absolute. She decides what enters and exits. Consequently, taking this choice from her, is rendering her a powerless individual, and insinuating that she cannot be trusted to make the right decision for her own body. The woman knows best and should not be dictated to - or forced by repressive laws - to undertake a life altering pregnancy, which she neither planned nor desired. Today, in this same world, a King who died to everything he was entitled to and deserved, calls us to come follow Him. He calls us to follow His example. And He calls us to die with Him. Does it mean letting go of the self-determination of life choices and submitting to His way? Yes. Does it mean a life of single minded self-seeking pleasure is over? Yes. Does it mean an outward focus on the well-being of others, even at times to the perceived detriment of our own interests? Yes. ...