“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it.” – Mark 8:34-35
In Mark 8, we see a powerful shift in Jesus’ teaching. After Peter declares that Jesus is the Christ—and then immediately objects to the idea of Jesus suffering—Jesus turns to the crowd and calls them to a deeper understanding of what it truly means to follow Him: deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.
This was a jarring statement to His listeners. The cross was not a symbol of beauty or hope in their context—it was a brutal instrument of death. So, when Jesus told them to take up their cross, He wasn’t talking about carrying a burden or enduring inconvenience. He was speaking of death—death to self.
As we follow Jesus to His Cross, we carry our own. But what is our cross? It’s not just suffering or hardship. Our cross is the place where our will is crucified so His will can live in us.
It is the daily surrender of our desires, our plans, our preferences—even our dreams—to yield to the authority of Jesus Christ.
Sometimes we want something so badly that we try to convince ourselves it’s God’s will. Sometimes we think our way is more effective, more efficient, or even more merciful. But the call of discipleship is not to advise Jesus—it’s to follow Him. Even when His path leads us to discomfort. Even when it asks more than we expected to give.
“Not my will, but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)
Jesus didn’t just teach this—He lived it. He carried His cross willingly, knowing it would lead to pain, shame, and death. And He calls us to do the same, not out of guilt, but out of love, trust, and obedience.
The heaviest part of carrying our cross is not external—it’s internal. The weight we bear is often our pride, our need for control, our comfort, our opinions, our insistence that our way is better.
But when we nail those things to the cross, something incredible happens: resurrection life begins to flow.
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)
There is freedom in crucifixion—freedom from the exhausting need to be right, to be in control, to get our way. There is peace when we surrender to His Word and His will.
Jesus said, “Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for Me and the gospel will save it.”
This is the paradox of the cross: when we die to self, we come alive in Christ. When we let go of our grip on life, we discover the life we were made for. It’s not about self-preservation—it’s about full surrender.
Taking up our cross is not a one-time decision—it’s a daily posture. Every day we must choose to crucify our selfishness, our pride, and our need to be in control. And in doing so, we find true life.
To follow Jesus is to walk the road to the cross—but it is also to walk the road to resurrection.
Lord, help me to carry my cross daily. Teach me to surrender—not just the big things but the quiet, hidden corners of my will that still resist You. Let me not only call You Christ, but also obey You as Lord. Crucify in me anything that competes with You, and fill me with resurrection life. Even when I falter, thank You for staying near. I want to follow You—fully and freely. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
