How the cross changes everything

The cross was once a violent political tool. It stood at the entrances of Roman cities as a public warning, a symbol that said, "This is what happens to those who stand against us." It was designed to instill fear, enforce control, and bring resistance to an end.

So how did it become a symbol of peace, hope, and love?

Jesus happened. Easter happened.

Through his death and resurrection, the meaning of the cross was transformed. What once represented power and violence, was redefined as a sign of self‑giving love. It was reframed, no longer the end of the story, but the place where hope began. And in the resurrection, the story itself was rewritten, reminding us that death and brokenness do not have the final word. 

This Easter, may you be reminded that change is possible, and that even in quiet and unseen ways, Jesus continues the gentle work of renewal, in us and through us.

Today we share with you five stories of transformation:

Control. Fear. Choice. Hope. Invitation.

This photo was taken on the day I closed my New Age business that I had run for over ten years. Despite never having read the Bible, or really understanding what the gospel was, I felt an urgent impulse to go out and buy a cross necklace. 

I drove to the shop, selected one, and put it on immediately, with a sense of anticipation in my spirit. 

As I walked outside, a huge downpour of rain began. Within seconds, I was absolutely drenched. I didn’t know what was happening, but I felt the most intense joy and peace pouring out of my heart. It felt like God was cleansing me. Like I was being set free from years of trying to heal myself and others. 

For so long, my life had been controlled by self‑improvement. Trying to manifest and transform my own life, trying to heal my own wounds, and searching for peace, love, and freedom down endless spiritual rabbit holes.

Instead of freedom, those years had only brought more torment and despair, and the heavy weight that comes from trying to do it all yourself. 

"Letting go of control is what finally set me free." - Vanessa

That day, even though I didn’t really understand the cross, there was a knowing and a pull towards a sense of freedom that was coming. I can’t explain it, but I knew something was shifting. 

I still have this cross four years later, and it continues to change me. Fifteen years in the New Age, trying every kind of practice, spirit, ritual, and process, doesn’t even come close to four years with Jesus and the power of the cross. 

The cross taught me that there is nothing I can do to heal or transform myself - I can only receive what He has already done, and to keep receiving the peace, love, and freedom He paid for. 

I went from being a prideful, lost, and broken leader in the New Age to a beloved daughter of God. I have been humbled, healed, and transformed by the grace of God, and I continue to become more me by becoming more His.

'Fear is the Lion in the streets seeking whom it may devour next.' 

I spent much of my life working in hazardous environments, yet physical danger never seemed to frighten me. Fear, at least that kind of fear, felt out of reach. It wasn’t until I was involved in a serious accident that I encountered a different kind of fear altogether.

After the accident, there was a formal process to document the circumstances that led to my injury. That process required a detailed account of my past and present life, and it was then that another layer of fear set in. Suddenly, every part of my life was under a microscope.

I had to confront the reality that I hadn’t always been open, honest, or transparent. In some areas, I had lied or at least hidden the truth. My privacy was gone. It was as though my entire internet browsing history had been exposed to strangers. I felt completely naked. 

This was fear of exposure. Fear of judgement. Fear of what would happen once everything was brought into the light. 

In despair, I spoke with my Pastor. Together, we confronted it and shone a light on it. Once everything was exposed, there was very little of myself left to deny, defend, or justify. And so, picking up the cross and following Christ became the only way forward. 

I discovered that much of what I feared failed to eventuate. As the Apostle Paul writes, I began “bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.” Fear lost its grip when it was no longer hidden. 

"Where fear once ruled, love now reigns." - Bevan

The cross was once a symbol of fear. Christ was stripped bare upon it, publicly humiliated, and made a spectacle for all to see. Yet it was there, at Calvary, that Jesus transformed the very thing people feared most. 

Christ tore open the veil through the power of His love. His blood, poured out upon that wooden cross, left behind an indelible new stain. Where fear once ruled, love now reigns.  

He exposed fear - including my own - and taught us that the 'Holy Spirit of Love' would cast out fear for us eternally. 

Although I grew up with a strong faith and was an active participant in my local church, like many young people, I stopped connecting with God after I moved out of home. For a little over three years, I played music in local bands and lived an extremely hedonistic lifestyle. 

In His perfect love and mercy, I was drawn back into an intimate relationship with Christ. I experienced immense healing and peace through the abundance of His grace. 

I knew that simply reconnecting with a local church and attending Sunday services would not be enough to bring about or sustain the kind of change I desired in my life. Dramatic change would require dramatic action.

"Within a few weeks of recommitting my life to Christ, I made a choice." - Andrew

Within a few weeks of recommitting my life to Christ, I made a choice. I chose to leave my bands, my share house, and my friends to complete a year‑long discipleship course in Swan Hill, country Victoria.  

That decision then led me to complete a two‑year internship at a local church in the same town. A few years later, I moved to Brisbane to study theology, and I now work as a community chaplain at Annerley Church of Christ. 

While I’ve made some significant, life‑altering decisions in my desire to follow Christ, I’ve come to realise that the greater struggle and the more noble pursuit is choosing Jesus daily.  

It’s choosing to put God first in the small things, picking up my cross each day, and acknowledging Him in all of my ways.

I’ve felt invisible for over sixty years. As a young girl growing up, in my work, and as a wife. Even after I came to know and follow the Lord, I still felt unseen. 

I knew Jesus loved me because that’s what the Bible says. But in a real, personal sense? Did He actually see me? Did He hear my prayers? Was I worthy of Him paying any heed to my existence?  

I did all the “God stuff.” I read and studied the Bible. I helped and served in His name. And yet, I still felt invisible. 

Then I had the accident. 

I was driving along a busy two‑lane main road when I blacked out, crossed both lanes, and hit a telephone pole. The next thing I remember was a man knocking on my window. The ambulance. The emergency room. My daughter’s terrified eyes at the end of my bed as the crash team worked to keep me alive. 

That was the moment I knew that God saw me. 

"I left hospital with a new spiritual heart." - Tina

He had always seen me, and that day, He kept me safe. I’m starting to cry as I write this, because just as He saw Hagar in the wilderness, He saw me. He is the God who sees: El Roi. 

I left the hospital a few days later with a new heart. Not just a physical one which works a whole lot better, but a new spiritual heart as well. As it says in Ezekiel 36:26, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you.”

Now I know that He sees me, and that I matter deeply to Him. My service has been renewed, and I feel a new fire within my spirit. 

As Psalm 39:7 says, “And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You.” I walk with renewed hope. I am no longer hidden. I look forward to and am filled with hope for what comes next. 

He is the God who sees YOU. 

The cross is a symbol that went from representing political power, violence, and oppression to something many of us now wear around our necks as a sign of hope. What a shift.

The events of Easter, and, more specifically, the work of Jesus on the cross, haven’t just transformed this symbol. I’ve experienced that change personally… or more importantly, I’ve experienced the invitation it offers. 

For a long time, I tried to define myself through attention, applause, and experiences. Really, anything that would make me feel like I was enough. Failing that, I’d look for distractions, or at least numbness, to quiet the idea that I wasn’t measuring up to who I thought I was meant to be. 

But on that journey, about seventeen years ago, I came to a realisation: it wasn’t enough, and I wasn’t enough. That was the moment I encountered the invitation of the cross, and the invitation of Jesus. An invitation to give Him, to lay on Him, all my insecurities, shortfalls, mistakes, and striving. An invitation that allowed me, in a spiritual sense, to die to the expectations and regrets I had been carrying. 

"I died spiritually to the expectations and regrets." - Steve

As a young adult, this was the most important decision I had ever made. It allowed me to be reframed, redefined, and renewed into an identity grounded in Jesus. 

Living in that invitation over the past seventeen years has been one of hope, creation, and life to the fullest. Of course, I still need reminders, and I still slip into old habits and ways of thinking from time to time. That’s why Easter is such a great time to pause, remember, and reflect. 

This Easter, my invitation to anyone reading this is simply this: consider the work of Jesus on the cross. Consider how the cross changes everything - and how it might just change everything for you.