For the last couple months, this cross has hung on the back of our front door. It is not there for any particular reason other than that I have been too lazy to put it away.
I threw this together the evening before we went to the Renaissance Faire as part of the monk garb I wore that day. But even though it was thrown together quickly, there is something about it that draws me to it. It is plain, simple, cheap, and thrown together for a particular task. It is not gilded or ornate. It is not the product of careful artistry. It is the product of scrap wood and twine laying about my garage.
I think what draws me to it is the merging of the ordinary and the divine. Just as with the cross that stood at Calvary two millennia ago.
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