UNITED STATES
The Garden of Roses: Stories of Abused and Healing
I almost revel in my sobs,
Knifelike pain slashing through my heart,
On a sleepless Saturday night
I feel helpless.
Whatever will be, will be.
I went to Mass Sunday morning
And watched the priest with tired eyes
and listened to the priest with tired ears.
Bible readings speak of going through pain and loss, rejection and persecution.
I close my eyes and see Jesus struggling to carry the cross along the Via Dolorosa,
along the Way of Tears,
The crown of thorns digging into his blood and sweat streaked brow;
His hair snarled and matted with blood;
His body bent from pain and the weight of wooden beams balanced on his back,
Knowing the pain and suffocation of crucifixion is yet to come.
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