At the Foot of the Cross

At the Foot of the Cross

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

In the dimly lit church, in the quiet of the night, the reflective glow behind the old rugged cross calmed. A place of safety it was as the cold winds blew a deep chill just outside the windows mere feet away. The shelter brought comfort. Plopping in a pew for respite was all that was sought this blustery eve.

Words came in picture form of another mama who lived some two thousand years ago.  John 19:26 puts it plain. “Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.”

The Word was spoken to lift a mama’s heart. Her son, who was dying, knew full well she would need another to love. She would need a heart transplant as the load bearing was heavy. Twas a gift given her. Could someone else replace the love a mama has for a child? I suppose not, but He would soon send His Holy Spirit to help bring a peace that passes all understanding and hope would be born.

But back to the beginning. Back to the beginning when the earthly hearts were separating at the foot of the cross. The beating that took out the beating heart of a son while a mama watched on would have destroyed this mama. He’d chosen Mary to take on this role. He’d chosen her to carry Him in more ways than one, and He’d chosen wisely.

Someday I hope to give Mary a hug and tell her thank you for carrying the burden of burdens, looking on as her own child suffered and died right before her eyes. It was bad enough when my mama died. I did not have to look upon it. It was shrouded in the cloak of a smile during a one-on-one meeting with her a few weeks prior to death, and it took place in the confines of a clean and quiet hospital room.

When the time came and I heard that my mama had passed, it was like my beating heart stopped. The world stopped. Time stopped. I stopped. Yet, Mary, mother of the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, went on. She went on with living. She put one foot in front of the other and kept on going.

I was fortunate enough to have my mama’s mama still alive at the time. In her ultimate wisdom, when I asked her how she managed to bury a daughter and a husband (my grandpa) in the same year, she threw up her arms, and in perfect grandma style simply said, “What are you gonna do? You gotta keep on living!” And she did. My grandma taught me not only how to keep on breathing, to keep on putting one foot in front of the other, but more-so how to keep on living.

I miss them both now, my grandma and my mama. But what are you gonna do? You gotta keep on living. As time passes and we pass through the brokenness of where life leads…it is He who brings life and allows us to keep on living. Acts 17:28 whispers truth. “For in Him we live and move, and have our being.”

And as we are separated for a time from those whom we love, lest we forget…He remembers. “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all…Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution…or peril or sword? Just as it is written… in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For… neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth…will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:32-37).  Amen