You stood with me
as I looked at myself through time.
A small child,
carrying great pain.
I did not want to acknowledge
the child
or the pain,
Yet I knew you were
inviting me to do so.
“This is not me.
This suffering cannot be mine,”
I said.
You responded,
surprising me again.
“This is me. This suffering is mine.”
You are so fully with me,
you are so much a part of me,
that all my sorrow
and all my joy
are yours as well?
In your tender strength
I found the courage and humility
to at last embrace
this suffering child.
“This is me,” I wept.
——
Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
Isaiah 53:4
From Heaven at my Door by Juanita Ryan