My Courage Ran Away..

Zeke and I were browsing through the fruit section in our local Ingles grocery store.

As we rounded a corner, I noticed a young guy pushing a buggy with a little girl in it. There wasn't anything that stood out about him per se. It was the shirt he was wearing.

It was solid black and in the middle was a bold red cross. A white "X" slashed over the cross and the message underneath read, "Bad Religion".

I was awe-struck. Dumb-founded. I couldn't move momentarily. Finally I noticed I was gaping at him and urged myself to stumble forward.

How could someone have such an offense toward something that purchased freedom for so many?

I have kicked myself a hundred times already for not praying immediately and asking for help. Right then. Right there.

I feel sure that God wanted me to kindly approach this young man and say something like, "Excuse me. May I ask you about the meaning of your shirt?"

God may have just wanted me to listen to his reply and move on.

But I bet the young man would've asked me why I asked him about it or maybe not?

But if he had (and I'll never know now) I would have been able to tell him..

"That cross on your shirt has been my saving grace. It represents ALL that God went through to save me. Nothing about it is religious to me. That is too impersonal. No~ that cross means life, forgiveness, pardon, mercy, newness, restoration, healing, grace and hope. I know from my own experience. That cross gives me a DO-OVER every single day. I just hate it that someone or something has demeaned it for you. See for yourself. Seek the man who hung on that cross."

That was what I would have said......what I should have said.

1 Corinthians 1:18 " For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."