My husband and I travel. . . a lot.

Recently, as we were returning from a trip to our son’s home in Nebraska, it was about ten o’clock at night and I was driving.  We’d had a long day and I was getting pretty tired; Jim was sleeping in the passenger seat to my right.  Suddenly, my headlights caught a trio of crosses, as the fog swirled around them.  There were two representing what appeared to be two adults, and the third was clearly that of a small child.

As my mind captured the picture and burned it into my memory, in just that instant, I thought of all the many crosses I have witnessed by the wayside, as we have crossed this great land.  Sometimes there is a lonely cross with perhaps a wreath of silk flowers hanging from it, at others there may be a pile of teddy bears, or a picture of a family.  Each one is different, and each cross represents the loss and sorrow of a family somewhere.

The memories of the crosses we had seen before drew me to thinking about the cross of salvation.  On the lonely hill of Golgotha, there were three crosses, that day.  The one in the middle was made particularly to hold a certain man.  A man who was never meant for this world, but who came as a baby, lying in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes.  He came, to be the salvation for our sins.  His name was Christ Jesus and he was real.  He is real even today.

It’s funny how the mind works sometimes. . .  as I whizzed past the crosses on the side of the road that night, I saw them, but I also “saw” the cross of Calvary.  I saw the savior of the world hanging there, bleeding, broken, wounded for my transgressions.

Fresh and anew, my heart broke, just as it had when I was a child and first heard the story of salvation.  Gripping the steering wheel, and blinking my tired eyes to clear the tears that welled up, I prayed and asked God to forgive me for any sins that I might have committed that day.

And then, I prayed that He would touch and bless the family who were likely grieving the loss of their three dear ones.  I can’t even imagine that kind of pain.

So now, when you are driving along a lonely stretch of highway, and you see a cross ~ or maybe two or three by the wayside ~ perhaps you will stop your rushing, just for a moment, and remember the cross on the wayside of Calvary.

Perhaps you will remember the one who died that you might go free. . .