A Cross to Bear

From More Precious Than Silver by J.E. Tada

Some would think, Humberto is carrying too heavy a cross. His is a noble, divine mission---shouldn't God lighten the load (Humberto is paralyzed in Ecuadorian jungle). Humberto would say no. As a writer put it: "The cross God sends is a cross that He understood with His divine mind, tested with His wise justice, and weighted with His own hands to see that it be not one inch too large and not one once too heavy for the person to whom He has given it."

The reason no cross is too much to bear is that we can ask God to help us bear it, and He will freely help. I just wrote an RA post about today being a harder than usual day. And I have failed in that I had not asked my Father to help me carry the load. He tells us to take His yoke, and that it is easy...because He knows how to do the work that is before me, this trial of pain and suffering, and He can help carry the load. We are not meant to carry these crosses alone. We so often think we are....I forgot to pray and ask for help. Jesus, Himself, did not carry the physical cross all the way to The Skull...someone carried it part way. I think, when we pray and ask God for help, to help with our trials...He may even carry the load completely for a while. In fact, I would say He has for me. There have been times if He had not, I wouldn't have been able to get the sleep I needed. It was if, as I prayed, He lifted the cross of pain and suffering from my back, rubbed my "sore muscles" and placed most of the cross on His own scarred back, whispering, "I will take it for now, child." The thought brings tears to my eyes, that I forgot to ask Him for help...when He is such a willing person to help with the load. 
Sure, I wish He would simply cure me. But I can take it on when He helps carry the load...when both of our backs strain against the yoke, it is easier to plow the field...Whereas alone...alone, alone, alone I cannot do it. I cannot get the plow to move, and my pain builds and builds as RA whips my back wanting me to move the plow.  And there, standing within sight, waiting for me to say, "Please, Lord, help me," is my King, whereupon He will stride out and put upon the yoke too. And we will walk together, with me following His steps. For eventually, His steps will lead to paradise, and He will wipe every tear from my face, remove each ache and pain...and tell me "Well done, good and faithful servant." I imagine the look in His eyes and face, and touch of His scarred hand on my shoulder.......
And that, my friends...will make anything that ever happens to anyone all worth it.