When I was fifteen and impressionable a friend said he couldn't understand why a Christian would write a song about clinging to an Old Rugged Cross. I nodded in agreement. I agreed with everything everyone told me then, and besides, clinging to splinters, blood, and iconic indulgences sounded distasteful.

But I've been listening to a song on repeat this past week, and I've been preaching the gospel to myself on repeat this week, and I've been reading a verse on repeat this week, and I've been asking the Lord repeatedly to show me Himself in his death, his life, and his faithfulness this week. And I've been wishing the past few days that I could go back to that friend and disagree with him. That I could say to him that the reminder of that cross had the power to save us when Christ died on it, that it has the power to save us at the moment of confession and repentence, and that that cross has the power to save us all over again every moment of every day.

What can take a dying man and raise him up to life again?
What can heal a wounded soul?
What can make us white as snow?
What can fill the emptiness?
What can mend our brokenness?

Mighty, awesome, wonderful
Is the holy cross
Where the Lamb laid down His life
To lift us from the fall
Mighty is the power of the cross

What restores our faith in God?
What reveals the Father's love?
What can lead the wayward home?
What can melt a heart of stone?
What can free the guilty ones
What can save and overcome?