How could any human impose such a burden on Your torn and bleeding body, Lord Jesus? Each movement of the cross drove the thorns deeper into Your head. How did You keep the hatred from welling up in Your heart? How did the injustice of it all not ruffle Your peace? The Father’s Will was hard on You- why do I complain when it’s hard on me?
I see injustice and am frustrated; and when my plan to alleviate it seems futile, I despair. When I see those burdened with poverty suffer ever more and cross is added to cross, my heart is far from serene. I utterly fail to see the dignity of the cross as it is carried with love. I would so much rather be without it.
My worldly concept is that suffering, like food, should be shared equally. How ridiculous I am, dear Lord. Just as we do not all need the same amount of material food, neither do we need the same amount of spiritual food and that is what the cross is in my life, isn’t it? Spiritual food proportional to my needs.