So, I feel like I disappeared from off the face of the blog world for awhile. Even though it was only for a few days. I received a phone call Friday morning, that told me one of my adult children was in the hospital. I packed up my overnight bag, left my family at home, and headed down to the valley. It doesn't matter to me how old my children are, there are still times when they need me to be there for them. He was in the hospital all weekend, sick with the flu.
He has diabetes, so it is a concern when he gets sick, and he had kidney failure about six months ago, so it was an even bigger concern. So, down I went. It kind of pulled me out of my comfort zone and forced me to remember all the many things that I have in my life to be grateful for.
After spending time with him, he finally got out of the hospital and is doing fine. It has been a tough year for him. Sometimes he still asks me "Why me??" As I have thought about it this week, I think I found the answer in an old poem that I memorized many years ago. I hope it helps you through whatever your own trials might be today. We all have them. Some of them are easy to see, some are hidden deep within and rarely shared, but that doesn't mean that they aren't there, that we don't hurt, that we don't feel despair.
Remember that everyone you meet is walking their own journey. Just because the path doesn't look quite the same as yours, doesn't mean that it doesn't have pitfalls and trials. It is not an road for any one of us, but it is exactly what we need in order change our hearts and our lives and return to Him.
The Road Is too Rough
by Olga J. Weiss
- "The road is too rough," I said,
- "Dear Lord, there are stones that hurt me so."
- And He said, "Child, I understand,
- I walked it long ago."
- "But there's a cool green path," I said;
- "Let me walk there for a time."
- "No child," He gently answered me,
- "The green path does not climb."
- "My burden," I cried, "Is far too great,
- How can I bear it so?"
- "My child," He said, "I remember the weight;
- I carried My cross, you know."
- But I said, "I wish there were friends
- Who would make my way their own."
- "Oh, yes," He said, "Gethsemane
- Was hard to bear alone."
- And so I climbed the stony path,
- Content at last to know
- That where my Master had not gone,
- I would not need to go.
- And strangely then I found new friends,
- My burden grew less sore;
- As I remember – long ago
- He went that way before.