Carrying The Cross

You always hear about “carrying your cross”...and I’ve sort of come to grips with this idea.  While I can grasp this concept on an intellectual level…on an emotional level I am not so sure.  My cross is so small it fits nicely in my back pocket tucked away where it does not bother me.  But on occasion it pokes me in the ass and I resort to winning and crying "why me?"  I keep going down the some ole road, falling into the same ole pothole, getting stuck in the same ole rut...“Why me...Why do I have to suffer?"

The answer that I keep coming up with…which is really a question…is: How can I know Jesus…really know Jesus?    Unless I experience some of what HE went through.
Rejected, jerked around, spit upon, flogged. 

Perhaps I need to drink just a tiny sip from the cup.

And stop grumbling about a few little aches and pains.

OK…carrying the cross is one thing…but hanging on it…that worries me.  

Dear Lord Jesus,

While in my nest I have messed

But You forgave all transgressed

As far it is from east to west

Yes…I know, I am a pest

Please forgive my protest

Your love you have so expressed

As hanging there would suggest

I am weak and under lots of stress

But when it is time for the test

I want to do my very best

For this I pray…my final rest

YOUR actions show I am blessed

How can I not be impressed?

So this I promise is my quest

To follow you…I’ve professed

Amen.