Jesus,
You were getting weaker and weaker.
You had been beaten.... you were laughed at.. jeered at.... but you kept moving forward.
It was becoming impossible for you to carry that cross alone.
You had been beaten.... you were laughed at.. jeered at.... but you kept moving forward.
It was becoming impossible for you to carry that cross alone.
Simon, a Cyrenian from that Greek colony in Libya, a stranger, a foreigner stepped forward to help.
Was he forced to help by the soldiers?
Because he was a foreigner? Or was he one of your Gentile followers?
Does it really matter?
He helped you carry that cross.
The cross was heavy, The journey was grueling.
But having someone walk beside you must been a small comfort.
Dear Jesus,
I will help you carry your cross. Or, should I say MY cross? All the little things you ask me to do that I find distasteful.... or cumbersome... or simply annoying. None of them compare to the cross you took up for me. That cross that Simon took from your shoulders. Please help me SMILE while I carry my own cross. My heart and spirit are willing.... but sometimes I am not faithful. Please help me be steadfast in my promise!
Amen!
No comments:
Post a Comment