Three crosses

I want to tell you about three crosses.  

They are not the three crosses you probably would expect in a pastor's story; they are not the ones on which Jesus and two thieves were executed on Mount Calvary long ago.
  
These are three different crosses.

The first is one of several wooden crosses I packed to take along when a group of workers from King of Kings Lutheran Church went to Houston, Texas earlier this month to help with clean-up in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. 
They were  made by one of our talented members to present as gifts for families joining our congregation.
  
Three of these little wooden crosses stayed in Houston as remembrances of our assistance to the families who were helped. They are reminders of why we came.

The second cross is vastly different from the first.

It is massive, modern and beautiful, standing at the gateway to Salem Lutheran Church at Tomball, Texas.  This church served as "home" to the workers.  There we ate breakfast, cleaned up after a long day of exhausting work, chatted in the evening and slept on cots at night.

To us strangers, the cross - lit at night - was a beacon that announced to us that the long day was over and we were home at last.

The third cross was different still.  It was an odd color, a bit beat up and anything but beautiful.  Yet it had an important purpose.  A key was attached to it that opened the door to a home in need.

It was the most important cross of the three.  

Without this cross, we could not reach the one in need.  All of the tools and manpower were useless if we could not enter the house.

In the same way the cross of Jesus opened the barrier that stood between us and our heavenly Father.  It met our greatest need.  Jesus' death was the payment for our sins.  The door to everlasting life swung open with his resurrection.

Like a flooded home rehabbed by a crew of volunteers, you and I have been made new again by the cross of Christ.