Love stumbles…and stumbles…and stumbles

by Craig on March 7, 2012

Meditations on the third station of the cross | Jesus falls...source

It was a simple 48 hour fast. Nothing momentous…but a sweet time with Our Lord…and I’ve been sharing its little epiphanies for a couple of weeks now…and as I fast…I meditate…on the Stations of the Cross…

and this Station…the third…

Our Lord falls for the first time.

The journaling of the fast began here – and the posts follow one after the other to this one.

And now, the conversation with him flows…freely.

The embarrassment of it Lord.
Nobody ever talks of the public embarrassment.
It was grueling –yes.
Sad – yes.
But You are given the beam to carry…
and You can’t do it.

No sleep…for now…days.
food and water limited…
wounds untreated…
maybe infection setting in…
so much loss of blood already…
Your body just…failed…You.

And there was no hiding it…
a public failure…
complete with a mocking audience.
The Roman soldiers pushing You forward,
Being pushed into You because the crowd was pressing in.

Meditations on the third station of the cross | Jesus falls...

Painting of James Tissot hanging in the Brooklyn Museum

And they all look on and wonder…
“Why can’t he carry his cross less than a mile…
the other two don’t seem to have any problem.”

I know how humble You are Lord.
I’ve had brief moments of that humility.
But You know I understand…
I know of a body rebelling…
what should be normal is struggle.

You know how I go through most days.
Everything. Is. Struggle.
You know how I don’t want anyone to know.
But also want everyone to know so they can understand.

Because nobody does.

Nothing works right because I just never get rest.
At first no sleep was a delight of sorts…
extra hours to write, clean, whatever…
while everyone else slept.

Bonus time.

But for 15 years You know how the effects have accumulated.
You know more than anyone because I hide it from everyone.

But it’s harder to hide than it used to be.

My thoughts have to constantly fight through a foggy haze.
My body once strong is a shadow of what used to be.
I don’t look 80, but I feel 80.
I know this because I talk with people who are…
and what they tell me…that’s how I feel.

I wake up constantly through the night…
between 5 and 40 times in a 6 hour period…
yet when I want to wake up, get out of bed…

I can’t.

Meditations on the third station of the cross | Jesus falls...source

Depression weighs dark and heavy every. single. morning.
And maybe complicated by the sleep medication…
I close my eyes tight because I don’t want to open them…

I hold on with a death grip to the last vestiges of dreams…
because in dreams I’m rested, strong, clear headed.
Dreams used to be what life was not.
Now they are what life used to be.
To open my eyes is to let go of “normal” for the day.

I remember when, before Sara died, she shared how she knew things were permanent…ending. It was when even in her dreams her body didn’t work. Before that, she must have wanted to hold desperately onto her dreams too.

But Sara was a far far better person than me.

There is a bit more to this, and you don’t need to click over to read it…
I’m thankful, and a little…embarrassed…that you’ve read this far…
But if you’d like to follow these thoughts to conclusion…
just click here and you’ll go to Deep into Scripture for the rest.

{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }

kelli- AdventurezInChildRearing March 7, 2012 at 8:29 am

Craig, to some extent – I get it. For 10 + years now I’ve suffered with RA. Pain is one thing, but the lack of energy and the way it messes with my sleep patterns is something else. When I do sleep – I don’t usually hit REM sleep until just before time to wake up. There are days I cannot pick my head up off the pillow. I make breakfast at night so the boys have everything available. They come to my room and watch a movie and eat and sometimes cuddle. Somedays we don’t start school until 2:00 – usually it’s after lunch. Most days I’m able to begin waking up by 9-10. My body won’t always let me walk very well. Sometimes it fails me. I’m sorry for your pain. To some extent I get it. Thank you for this peek into the 3rd station of the cross. God loves us so much!


Craig March 7, 2012 at 10:53 am

I take it back – anyone whose body rebels against them would get it. I never got it until my body begin rebelling against me. Our Lord always got it! And Kelli – I get it and I’m glad that you get me – your boys are so lucky to have you. God bless and keep you Kelli.


kelli- AdventurezInChildRearing March 8, 2012 at 7:27 pm

you never have to take it back my friend- I just wanted you to know you are not alone and that I am feeling for you- the best that I can without being in your shoes – I at least “understand what you are saying” and care very deeply for you and your suffering, I thought of you today – I listened to this and cried alligator tears for myself and for you- and praised the Lord for being able to cry because sometimes I fight so hard I can’t feel anything much in my heart. Trying to be tough all the time is exhausting. Thank you 4 the sweet comment about my boys- it does not always feel like I’m able to be the mom I want desperately to be when I’m stuck in the bed. :(
Here’s our song:


Layla Payton March 8, 2012 at 12:53 am


…you know. You know I get this.

And I’m so dearly sorry, friend.


Craig March 8, 2012 at 6:41 am

I just finished leaving you a novel length reply on your comment on the other Deep – I’m all worn out – this one I’ll just say – thank you my friend – and – your honest, heartfelt, “dearly sorry” – that kind of tears me up a little – thank you. I know you get this! God bless! Just a thorn, right?


Layla Payton March 9, 2012 at 12:57 am

Yes, just a thorn.

Jesus willingly took a headful of thorns on our behalf, because He loves us THAT much.

Kinda puts my own “thorn” in perspective.

Headed to the other comment now…


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