Sometimes it feels
like you’re halfway up a mountain in the dark
and it’s started raining.
And you wonder
Will I really see the sunrise?
How my feet are aching
And some people gave up and got the train.
Choosing short-term gratification over pain.
(And I almost don’t blame them.)
Daily taking up our crosses to follow in Jesus’ wake.
Walking the narrow path, our Via Dolorosa
Choosing every day to lay ourselves down;
Dying to ourselves, to live.
This life price of sacrifice
It’s not going to be for everyone.
It’s still Friday
not yet Sunday
And yes some days
when pressure is relentless
and the world ageing frustrates us
It takes guts to keep going
and I see crosses on every tree.
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