My Pain

Carrying His own cross, he went out to the place of the skull. Here they crucified him. John 19:17,18b (NIV)

I awakened, stiff and sore from garden work. My head hurt. Then I thought I can’t hurt as badly as Jesus did when they pushed the crown of thorns onto his head. Conscious of my frailty, I asked forgiveness.

Later toward lunchtime, I walked a little stiff-legged from bending so much the day before. My knees and feet hurt with every step. I thought my knees don’t pain me as much as Christ’s knees holding up his body so he could breathe. My feet can’t hurt as much as His from being nailed to that harsh cross. Again I feel badly because I complain.

My hips and back gave me fits until I went to the exercise room and walked two miles to stretch my muscles. Carrying his cross Jesus walked almost two miles to Golgotha Hill where he was crucified. I feel humbled.

Vowing to change, I determined to ignore my wrists which pain me when I lift something heavy, especially when I work in the yard or garden. Even though I grabbed the Tylenol bottle and took a couple pills, I couldn’t forget that Jesus refused pain relievers when His wrists were nailed by heavy iron spikes that held His body weight. Jesus died, but was gloriously resurrected three days later.

Jesus accepted the sins of everyone who’s ever been born or will be born. What have I got to complain about?

Father, during this Easter season, let me not complain of my own pain, but let me recall what You endured because of Your love.

© 2011 E. Bonnie Ryan