My All in All

My goal for this essay, Is to tell a story that lead up to the cross and what it symbolizes in my life. My goals were to have a few descriptive scenes along with a backstory that describes and explains why the cross is as important to me as it is. I am most proud of the part in my essay in which I describe what being a Christian and going to church meant to me as a little girl and even until now. I also enjoyed the last part of my essay description. Some of my areas I would improve are shortening my essay down by getting rid of some of the descriptive details. I need to work on having at least two details per scene, because the scene seems to drone on and on the more descriptive it gets. I want to have less, but more as far as visual imaging.

“Hear O Israel the Lord Our God is one Lord, and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart and with all thy Soul and with all thy might.”, my mother said smiling as she recited to us Deuteronomy 6:4-5. This was one of the many precious verses of the Bible that held the key to living a good Christian life, a life that would make God proud. I remember it like it was yesterday. The bright white pages of the Bible, with shiny gold tint on each edge, as the bold black words marked their presence as they spilled down the page in smooth straight rows, an epitome of scriptures, chapters and verses. I can still see my eleven year old frame, tucked closely next to my sister’s thirteen year old one. Our eyes wide and smiles stretched across our faces, as we soaked in each word into our brains. I remember the sun, as it played peek-a boo through our window giving the straight golden letters on the front cover of the Bible a heavenly like glow. I can still see the smooth brown wood surface of the table, my elbows resting on it’s hard sturdy surface, as I kept my eyes on my mom. I can still hear my mom’s voice as she read the scripture. Her voice smooth, the rhythm steady, rising after each sentence to provide emphasis on each line. Though I had read the Bible many times over the past years , and had been writing scriptures out before my E’s even faced the right way, this was another one of the many times I had read this scripture, and each time it was read I was excited. The way my mother read it brought it to life, just like much of the many animated Bible lessons she taught in our comfortable living room. To us, these scriptures were not anything we hadn’t heard before, but the lessons we would learn and the blessings we would receive would be, if we continued to immerse ourselves in the word of God. At this age, and for ages to come, nothing meant more to me than getting to know God. From the time of birth until now, I was born and raised Christian. I love Jesus and talk about him so much, that I am often labeled what people call a “church girl.” As defined by many, A faithful attender of church every Sunday and a proud member of what my friends call “Team Jesus Christ.” I have seen everything, from the synchronized step of the ushers, as they march in their Black and white uniforms, the harmonical notes of the various choirs, and even the blunt and bold messages of my Pastor. Not only have I seen many of these things, but I have been on everything from the choir, to the usher ministry, to even the Evangelism Team, which requires giving to people in need and sharing about Jesus. Growing up Christian and in the church, meant values to me, and I began to fervently seek Jesus in every area of my life. This meant being faithful to his word, which I had been trained in and even to fasting and praying. As a little girl, this scared me quite a bit. Not the fact that I knew I would make mistakes as a Christian but what it would mean for me to get to know God. To me, God was a great huge, powerful being and I was just a small girl with pigtails, gapped teeth, and frilly church socks. However, my curiosity and my growing love of Him and all the attributes that make up who he is, overpowered my fear and soon I found myself getting baptized in the year of 2008. I can still fill the cold water as it covered my arms hands and feet, as I was immersed underneath it. I can still feel the sting of my nose as I came up out of the water, to the warm smiles and laughter of my family as I stepped out of the water. From then on, I continued to seek the Lord, and at thirteen I received the Holy Ghost, which to Christians is the “Lord’s spirit living within”. From thirteen on, only God continually proved himself to be a working favor in my life, and I sought him through in every way I could. Not only this but the symbol of the cross and what it stands for, became valuable to me. I would wear it on many outfits, whether in the form or earrings a bracelet and even a necklace. and accessorize it with many outfits. It became a favorable sight to me. That is why when the silver cross was given to my mother, I immediately took a liking to it. Although I could not wear it around, I could look at it and it became a reminder of what Jesus did for me. It was a warm spring day, The sun enveloped the clouds. Orange, green, and brown leaves dotted the ground’s rocky surface. The wind, marked its presence with its cool breeze. I rushed down the stairs, my footsteps making loud thuds on the soft brown carpet. The house still, the only noise being the loud ticking of the kitchen clock. As I walked into the kitchen, something amazing glistened off of my window sill. A new sight. It was a silver cross. Not the cliche brown wooden carved cross, but one made of pure crystalline glass. From top to bottom. Each corner and tip arched and etched perfectly together to create on lasting, standing masterpiece. The glass, although blurry continues to shimmer. The sun creating rainbows on its glassy surface often times when it peek into the window. As if this wasn’t enough, it stands on a rectangular ledge, meant to make it rise a little, so that it would be almost impossible to miss it. One layer, two layer, and finally the masterpiece. Despite the ordinance of the sill on which it stood, it stood out. Amongst everything it shares the surface of the sill with. And here it stands. Not did it become a reminder of the great sacrifice by which Jesus made over many 2,000 years ago, but also as a testament and witness. That showed me why it not only is a symbol that belongs in the many phases of life, but also in the very dear recesses of the heart. That day, there was not a moment as special. This cross meant the world to me, because it was a symbol etched into my heart. And so like this cross is , so is my religion and it continues to be as I proudly represent Jesus in every area of my life. Just like I am doing right now in this essay. Hey, what can I say? I am a part of Team Jesus Christ.