Fear, anxiety, and dread hit me all at once. Something I did not want to happen was happening.

Have you ever been there? Or maybe you’re there right now.

Maybe it looks like caring for a loved one with a chronic illness, and it feels like it’s killing you to watch them suffer. Maybe it’s remaining in the job you know God has called you to, even when every day requires you to sacrifice in ways that are tiring. Maybe you’re battling illness yourself, and you can feel the treatments draining your strength. Whatever form it takes, in moments like these, Jesus’s words ring true: “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33, NIV).

In His kindness, God recently brought my attention back to the cross.

Before the Nails, There Was a Choice

As Christians, we rightfully speak of the cross often because it is central to our faith. But we rarely think about the moments just before it. I do not only mean the chapters leading up to the crucifixion accounts in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. I mean the moment when Jesus willingly submitted Himself to the cross.

Imagine the moment when Jesus finally came to the cross itself.

The scourging was over. The mocking was over. The journey to Golgotha was over. Now the instrument of His execution lay before Him on the ground.

Scripture does not describe those moments, but Jesus knew what the cross was designed to do. He knew that within minutes His hands and feet would be fastened to the wood. He knew the shame, agony, suffocation, and death that awaited Him. Nothing ahead of Him would come as a surprise.

And yet He did not turn away.

At some point, the Savior who spoke galaxies into existence descended to the ground, allowing Himself to be positioned upon a Roman cross. The One who calmed storms and raised the dead submitted Himself to the rough timber that would soon hold His body aloft. The splintered wood pressed against the open wounds left by the scourging. The beam that would soon bear His weight rested against torn flesh. We can only wonder what went through His mind as He lay there, looking up at the sky He had created.

He knew exactly what was coming. The soldiers preparing the nails did not surprise Him. The hammer blows were not unexpected. Every second brought Him closer to suffering He had chosen.

Yet He remained.

He submitted Himself to the Father’s will and entrusted Himself to the path set before Him. There is something striking about that posture—not only physical but spiritual.

What It Means to Take Up Your Cross

We often think about Jesus carrying the cross, but before the cross could carry Him, He first had to surrender Himself to it. Before He was lifted up, He lay down. Before the nails were driven in, He placed Himself where they would fall. Before the suffering began, He surrendered to the instrument that would carry it out.

The cross was not forced upon Jesus. In obedience to the Father and out of love for sinners, He willingly embraced it. All of this suffering was chosen.

Jesus had told His disciples: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24, NIV). When we hear those words, we can picture carrying a heavy burden. That is part of discipleship. But what if taking up our cross means more than carrying it? What if it also means surrendering ourselves to the very thing God may use to crucify our pride, our self-reliance, our comfort, our plans, or our desire for control?

What if following Christ sometimes means laying ourselves down on circumstances we would never choose, trusting that God is doing something greater than we can presently see?

How to Lay Yourself Down When It’s Hard

Like Jesus, we ask God for another way, but we struggle to pray the second half of His prayer (Matthew 26:39). We want relief. We want answers. We want escape. We want God to take away the thing that hurts. But discipleship often means trusting the Father enough to stay where He has placed us, surrendering to purposes that are painful. God does not desire for us to suffer, but He can use it for greater purposes we may not see in the moment.

This kind of surrender is neither natural nor easy. It does not happen apart from the empowering work of the Holy Spirit. When we remember the Savior who willingly endured suffering on our behalf, we find strength to trust Him with our own.

Whatever cross lies before you today, remember the Savior who did not turn away from His.

Maybe that is what faithfulness looks like in your season: not running from the cross God has allowed in your life, but instead entrusting yourself to Him as you lie down upon it, believing that the God who brought resurrection from Christ’s suffering can also bring purpose from yours. Consider the words of German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who died for his faith at the hands of Nazis just days before the end of World War II:

What befell Christ befalls every man in Him. It is only as one who is sentenced by God that man can live before God. Only the crucified man is at peace with God. It is in the figure of the Crucified that man recognizes and discovers himself. To be taken up by God, to be executed on the cross and reconciled—that is the reality of manhood.

We often focus on taking up our cross, but perhaps we should also remember that before Jesus was lifted up on the cross, He first lay down upon it.

Following Christ means more than carrying a burden. Sometimes it means surrendering ourselves to the place where God intends to put our flesh to death and conform us to the image of His Son. This is not a call to seek physical death, but to surrender the earthly things within us that resist God’s rule: our pride, our self-reliance, our desire for control, our love of comfort, and our determination to have life on our own terms.

Remember John 16:33 in its entirety: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (NIV).

In Him, you will overcome because He overcame first. Draw near to Him and be refreshed in His presence and love for you today.

Before He was lifted up, He lay down.

If you liked this article, check out the related resources linked below!

Notes:

1. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics, ed. Eberhard Bethge, trans. Neville Horton Smith (Touchstone, 1995), 105.

---

Author Bio

Patricia Vachula is a Ph.D. student in Biblical Exposition at Liberty University. She is passionate about studying and unpacking Scripture within its literary and historical context and delights in helping others engage the Bible faithfully and clearly. She is originally from Long Island, New York, and now resides in Lynchburg, Virginia.

Related Resources:

Total Surrender		The Psalms | Volume 3		Preaching the Gospel to Yourself
		Loading price…		Loading price…
View Now		Add to Cart		Add to Cart