“Whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:27)
When I walk the crowded street and I pass by hundreds of people – young, elderly, in their prime, some of them smiling, some sad – I understand that each of them bears a cross and none is more important than the other. A cross that seems small may have a knot that rubs so much as to open a never healing wound. And the cross that seems big ma be light. It is of no importance, a cross is a cross.
What is important is to accept the cross and carry it and not to run away pretending that it doesn’t exist.
To understand my cross I had to go to the desert – even though I was at home, at work and had my duties to do. At my own wish I cut off the media and the noise but I was filed with the sense of emptiness and loneliness. I knew that God was with me but I didn’t understand Him at all/ The obligation of prayer helped me stand by Him and later came concrete signs and persons sent by Him to lead me out of the desert.
Thank you, God, for my cross- the one that I carry and for my brothers and sisters in faith who carry their crosses in trust. Thank you for the grace and strength that you give us so that we can accept and carry our crosses.
Categorised in: Dorota