Take Up Your Cross - Now

Today’s resolution in prayer was simple, yet piercing: “Take up your cross.”

I woke in the middle of the night with my heart pounding and my mind racing. Anxiety had a grip on me—not the productive kind, but fear. Fear of what was coming. Fear wrapped tightly around my thoughts, my expectations, my sense of control. I was trapped in my own head, my own worry, my own tribulation.

I know what those moments are meant for. They are invitations to turn to the Lord. To surrender fear. To hand Him the weight that life places on our shoulders. And yet, once again, my instinct was familiar: I’ll figure it out.

Too often, we rely on ourselves—or at least we try to. We convince ourselves that self-reliance is strength, that control equals security. And it works… until it doesn’t. We can figure it out, until we can’t.

This weekend, I spent time with someone I love deeply—a man whose life is slowly being taken from him by a debilitating disease. He isn’t bedridden, but he moves through life now as a shell of who he once was. He used to be strong. He commanded rooms. He carried respect. Now he is led, cared for, dependent.

The disease is stripping him down right in front of his own eyes.

He went to church—when it made sense. He believed in God—but only when it fit conveniently into his life. He didn’t lead with faith; he led with what mattered to him. Family mattered deeply, but work was always close behind, shaping everything. Fun and societal priorities filled in the rest. He was a good man, and he believed that being “good” was enough.

But now, facing the reality of death, regret has arrived.

His tears are constant. He knows that everything he worked for—the blood, the sweat, the sacrifice—offers him no comfort now. It doesn’t save him. It doesn’t calm his fear. He feels scared. Lonely. Anxious. He believes that when he dies, he is going to hell.

And yet—even here, even now—mercy is still available to him, just as it is to every one of us who turns back to Christ with a contrite heart.

And still—this is the moment to take up the cross.

It is never too late.

Jesus, hanging on the cross, looked at a criminal dying beside Him and promised eternal life in a single moment of surrender. That same mercy is offered to us today. Right now. Not someday.

Jesus does not wait for perfect timing. He waits for surrender.

He loves us unconditionally. But love requires response. We must deny ourselves. We must surrender control. We must follow Him—not when it’s comfortable, not when it fits our plans, but now.

Our lives depend on this decision today. Not tomorrow. Now.

We are called to live—but not for ourselves. We are called to live by following Him.

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” — Luke 9:23