One-of-a-Kind Cross and Precious Nail Holes

 Artistically put together of "barn wood" and barbed wire, this cross on the background of blue was heartfully fashioned by one of the men responsible for redecorating this little church out in the middle of the high plains outside Falcon--a church that used to belong to the Jehovah's Witnesses, and now belongs to a  vibrant evangelical fellowship.

When I slipped up front to get a closer look at this unique and beautiful cross, I saw something I don't remember ever seeing in a  cross before.

It wasn't the 3-D way the boards were fashioned. 

It wasn't the barbed wire crown of thorns. 

It was the nail holes.

Chosen from boards that had knots, those boards for the crossbeams had been worked over by the designer, a professional artist. He had seen those knots, and was inspired to remove them, leaving those small, gaping spaces--significant only to the eyes and hearts of those who believe in the Nail-scarred Hands.  

*************

 My heart melted. 

I wished no one else had been around.

I just wanted to kneel and fold my hands there in front of that cross,

and remember the Hands wounded for you and me.

And then I saw it.

 

Another hole. Just a knothole.

But it was more.

It was the nail hole where our suffering Savior's feet hung, too.

His hands and his feet were both wounded for you and me.

That cross on its background of blue was one-of-a-kind. 

I wasn't the only one who felt that way. 

"How do you like the new look?" one lady asked me, for the sanctuary had just been painted.

I decided not to talk about the paint, but about the cross. I was still thinking about the nail holes. 

So I told her how I felt about them.

"Me, too!" she said. She had been one of those who had helped hang the cross with the lights behind it.

"When I saw those nail holes," she said, "I just kept being overwhelmed." 

She and I looked into each other's eyes, but we could not look long.

Tears were ready to shimmer in both our hearts. 

Just a country cross of barn wood.

Just a barbed wire crown of thorns.

Just three knotholes.

But the hearts of two ladies in the back of the church, like the two Marys at the empty tomb, were speechless together.