It was the morning before Ash Wednesday many years ago. As I was shaving before going to work in Honolulu, where I was a newspaper reporter, a thought struck me: Tomorrow Lent will begin. What can I do this year to deepen my commitment to Christ?
Some Christians give up things for Lent, such as coffee or desserts; others choose forms of service, such as visiting patients in nursing homes. I'd never really observed Lent. But a year and a half earlier I'd become serious about living a Christian life, and now, for the first time, Lent seemed important to me. Why?
"Lord," I prayed aloud, "I've never considered 'giving up' anything for Lent. What do You want me to do?"
At once a quietly insistent inner voice replied: Buy a cross and wear it around your neck over your shirt.
The face in the bathroom mirror frowned back at me. I'd grown up in a home where religious symbolism was frowned upon, where wearing jewelry was considered "worldly." And besides, wouldn't my wearing a cross be construed as ostentatious, fanatical?
As I wiped away the remaining lather, I studied the face reflected back at me. This was not the face of an individualist or exhibitionist. This was an "observer," one who preferred to be on the sidelines taking notes. To walk into the newsroom with a cross dangling from my neck would mean…stares, stifled amusement, possibly contempt. Surely God wasn't asking me to do that!
Then that inner voice gently chided: Hal, I died on the cross for you. Won't you wear the cross for Me?
The following day, after parking my Volkswagen at the News Building, I found myself hesitating. On the front of my chest, suspended from a black nylon cord, hung a gleaming chrome-plated cross three inches long.
Finally I could stall no longer. On the way up the stairs I pretended not to be watching out of the comer of my eye for the reaction of other employees. In the newsroom several reporters greeted me, and the city editor nodded hello.
But to my surprise, no one even appeared to notice the cross!
In fact, during that entire season of Lent, I wore the cross every day, and no one ever asked me why. No one stared. No one treated me differently. Yet the cross was there for all to see.
But if the cross made no difference to them, it did to me. During those six and a half weeks, every one of my actions was reflected in that chrome-plated cross. I saw myself resisting the temptation to be antagonistic in a difficult interview, holding to the speed limit on the freeway, returning a dollar to the supermarket checkout clerk who'd given me too much change. No matter what role I was playing-reporter, motorist, shopper, husband, father-the cross encouraged me to perform as a Christian.
Since that Easter I continue to wear the cross from time to time, not just to show people who I am, but to remind myself who I'm supposed to be.
Download your FREE ebook, Daily Devotionals: 7 Days of Bible Devotions to Strengthen Your Faith
