For many years I wanted a little cross pendant made out of Black Hills gold.
My husband accommodated my wish, and bought me one for Christmas. I wore it for about five years and rarely took it off.
I needed to about a year ago, because my son kept trying to rip it off my neck. I have since decided to not wear it much — if at all — anymore.
When I first arrived at the writers conference I noticed a woman about my age wearing a black, turtle-neck sweater and a large, silver cross necklace. I frowned and thought, "What’s the purpose of that? Is it her attempt to scream to the world ‘I’m a Christian!’ without having to say a word?" Whether or not it was her intent, I can’t say, nor am I judging her. I mention it, because she made me honestly consider the reason I wore mine.
"Christian" to me isn’t a label. Nor is it a verb.
It’s a state of being — of giving everything I am and everything I have to Christ, and live according to his will (still working on that).
Wearing a cross around my neck proves nothing.
How I act and treat others, however, does.
I want people to see not me or my supposed "Christian goodness", but Christ himself. That is my purpose.
If I wear my cross, it’ll serve as a mere reminder to me of how I need to act, and nothing more.
Tomorrow will be a change of pace my friends: Book review of "A Lever Long Enough" by Amy Deardon