As I look to Holy Week and the implications it has for followers of Christ, I find it most fitting that in my body I bear weariness and pain. Nights of unease and waking, rising with prayers on my lips and burdens in my heart, I remember that He too, though perfect, knew suffering inconceivable to you and me.
I recognize and bear with honor, though small in comparison the suffering that aches His heart swelling also in mine, as I survey this world still wrought with strife and dishonor. How much better His ways! How much better His purpose and plan, if only we acknowledge with assent!
I look to His life and the good He did so quietly along the way, extending healing Hands to the sick and tender compassion to the sorrowing. I see His humble estate in this ignorant world, though King, they spat upon Him, unknowing.
The good gifts of selfless love and redeeming grace offered to us after so great a cost, may we suffer with such gentleness that His glory is displayed in our lives.