But, something happens to a man when he loses a child. He goes from incapacitating grief to functional insanity, and pretty much stays there for the rest of his life.
The cross is not a representation of grace. It is, and was, and always be an instrument of death: specifically, and most personally, the death of my Messiah, the only begotten Son of God.
I can't celebrate the cross. I can celebrate the victory of His resurrection. And, if to you, the difference between these two ideas is simply an argument of semantics, then you've probably never lost a child.
Some people have suggested that time heals all wounds. They have no idea what they are talking about. There are some depths of grief that you never recover from. Sure, it gets buried in the joys and struggles of life; but, on that rare occasion that the memory is unburied from my hectic life, it is just as devastating as the day I held that lifeless body in my hands.
The cross is perfect evil... necessary evil... my evil. The undeniable truth that God's grace is greater than this horrific fact is unfathomable. I can't possibly understand it. I haven't the slightest inclination toward trying to understand it. In fact, I bristle at the caustic notion. I gratefully accept it without ever hoping to understand.
If you were to bring harm to one of my children, I'd kill you with my bare hands without the slightest hesitation or hint of remorse.
God's grace to me, that He should offer such a means of reconciliation, is beyond consideration.
I don't sing of the glory or the wonder of the cross. I can't. And, maybe it is just me; but as a dad who has experienced loss, I can't imagine it ever being a subject that God is even remotely interested in talking about. Sure, it needs to be known. It needs to be understood; but, for me, never in the context of worship. Only as instruction, or silently and reverently considered with awe.
I don't hang a cross in my home, or wear one around my neck. It is deplorable to me, because, it (alone) is a demonstration of the one thing that I have ever had to offer the Holy One: death. Instead, I choose to glory in life, in obedience, and in the hope of an eternal blessing, sharing life and goodness together with Him, who dies so that I may live.