Our Daily Crosses
Christina Debusschere
About the Author: Christina Debusschere is a wife, mother, and cradle Catholic who grew up on a farm in northeastern Alberta. She holds a B.A. in music and a B.Ed. from Concordia University of Edmonton. Between rosaries and sinks of dishes, Christina enjoys reading, making music, educating her children, rational dialogue with her husband, and a good cup of coffee.
—
When I was a kid, you could say I had a very literal interpretation of the passage, “take up your cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). I recall trudging round and round our lilac bush with a wooden cross made of 2x6s, but not on more than one occasion (perhaps my guardian angel talked me out of it). Blame my youth for the eisegesis, but the meaning of “take up your cross daily” is not unlike “love your neighbour.” Just as the latter leads to the question, “And who is my neighbour?” the first needs an answer: “What is my cross?”
Often, daily life’s little annoyances that we face are described as crosses. The stubbed toe, spilled milk, or a cancelled appointment would all count. They’re obviously frustrating, and we need to exercise patience with these situations. But there are other challenges that we might call crosses, and I would like to highlight three of them.
Other People
The pinpricks of life that come from dealing with other people can be a cross, and a rather unpredictable one. Some days I think I can handle the annoyances that come from living with a husband and three small children, plus interacting with the people in our parish’s choir or my high school music students. But other days, I need much more grace: my daughters begin to shriek like their heads are ablaze, interpersonal conflict emerges at choir, or the best students have a moody, unproductive day. As much as I’d love to evict my offspring, mediate a long-term solution for the choristers, or give my students a day off, that isn’t what I’m called to do. These moments of struggle when dealing with other people are intensely frustrating, but that’s the cross. I can’t solve every problem or right every wrong, and I certainly can’t change other people. The humble acceptance of that fact is when the rough wood of the cross makes contact with our shoulders.
The only thing we can control is our own response to difficult people. The background stories or particular circumstances may not be changeable, but the way we act and the example we set can influence the outcome. We can be a peaceful presence where there is drama, a steady anchor where there is rapid change, or a firm decision-maker where there is confusion.
If you’re an introvert, you probably still have to interact with others on a regular basis, and perhaps you feel the cross of dealing with other people more acutely than extroverts. Being alone is easier. But if God wanted us all to live in isolation, He would have planned the world differently. Living in community is part of our design as humans, and we need to find where God calls us to be within it. Some members of Christ’s body are called to spend most of their day in quiet prayer, while others interact with people all day long, from the very hour they rise. The body of Christ is a complex organism, but there is something wonderful about God’s design, with all men’s quirks and oddities. What if next time you encounter someone difficult, rather than categorize the person as a frustration, you were to see the cross that is being offered to you and choose to embrace it? Furthermore, consider that you are likely a cross to others around you: let that thought make you more forgiving toward your frustrating neighbour.
Tragedies
The age-old “why does God allow bad things to happen?” can also be a place where we find the cross. Whether it’s close to home—like a loved one’s cancer diagnosis or a miscarriage—or far from our borders—like a tsunami or terrorist attack—tragic news can be hard to bear. Recall that Our Lord tasted the bitterness of sorrow in Gethsemane, and under His own Cross, He urged the women of Jerusalem to weep in sorrow over sin, rather than over the tragedy occurring before their eyes. This can be a reminder for us too. We can grieve the effects of sin upon our world and its fruits of disease and death.
But grieving by itself cannot soothe the ache we feel. It takes more than that to heal from tragedy. Looking at the lives of great souls who came before us can be a great aid. To watch Augustine reflect on his pre-conversion wrestling with God, or to pray with David psalms of lament can help us feel less alone in difficult seasons. Works like C. S. Lewis’ A Grief Observed offer further companionship, as he traverses the landscape of grief in a raw, yet still structured, manner. When terrible things happen, one’s spiritual life can be strengthened by remembering the sorrows of Our Lord and His Blessed Mother, along with accepting the cross of sorrow.
Personal Longings
The final place where I’ve found the cross is in my own longings. Perhaps you could call this one “unanswered prayers” or “yearnings for a different life.” It’s that thirst which can’t be satisfied, or the peak that is too steep to climb. It appears in our thoughts when the mind is free to wander. For me, it’s thoughts about changing where we live or the size of our family. On a good day, these longings bob up and down intermittently, slowly, just to see if I’ll notice them; on bad days, they break down the door when I’m already weak, shouting and demanding that I admit God has abandoned me.
I don’t need to listen to them. It took me a long time and too much distance from God to learn that. Refocusing one’s thoughts takes effort, and it’s like a muscle: the more you exercise, the stronger you become and the easier it gets. The longings within us can be intense. Some of them are good, naturally ordered desires, but they might not be within God’s plan for your life. Learning to “take every thought captive in obedience to Christ” (2 Cor 10:5) is a battle worth fighting. Rather than throw down the cross in frustration when these longings arise, are we willing to hold on and remain next to it, remembering that Our Lord was even nailed to His?
Conclusion
Besides these three areas where crosses arise, there are many more. Just as it is wise to examine our consciences and find our predominant faults in order to correct them more strategically, it can also be useful to reflect on what our daily crosses are. Consider whether you’ve accepted them, or if you are carrying them with an attitude of resentment. Have you asked Our Lord for assistance in bearing them? Perhaps there are saints whose example you could learn from, or fellow Catholics walking a similar road to yours who display virtue in the midst of suffering. In moments when it is hardest to bear, remember that on the other side of the cross, there is a resurrection, and “this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure” (2 Cor 4:17).