I wander through cemeteries. It all started because cemeteries have excellent, old plant specimens. Now though, it isn’t only the plants that draw me in, but the peaceful fragility of life and death there. I was on a mission of photographing baby leaves. Oh, those baby leaves tiny versions of summer leaves, emerging to quickly grow and capture the sunlight.
I looked down to ensure I didn’t trip over a headstone at the base of an enormous White Oak and I saw a group of headstones like this one, where in place of a dash there lived a cross. It looked like a dash, which had “turned’ into a cross. Do we all start out as a dash?
You have heard the saying, “Live your dash.” Really though the dash could mean a life with out God, a life minus (-) God, a life live for self. Where the cross, the cross says, I lived for Christ. So perhaps the saying would be “Live your Cross,” through the grace of God may we:
Live
our
Cross.
Leave a Reply