Cross to bear: burden or trial one must put up with
It’s not about how much you’re carrying; it’s about how much you’re grunting and complaining.
From an honest heart, I will tell you:
Many of the things we feel we suffer are self-inflicted wounds we’ve refused to treat and therefore, they’ve become infected.
Then we bitch about the infection, failing to notice that we’ve ignored the open wound.
Although there may be validity to the notion that each one of us bears a cross, much of the burden that is upon us is self-induced, self-prescribed and self-contained.
How do we know the difference between a difficulty that requires perseverance and one that is waiting for us to drop it off at the emotional dump heap?
Two quick questions should help a lot:
- Have solutions been offered that I’ve rejected because I’ve decided I’m stuck with my predicament?
Because if I get caught in a fire, rather than acting doomed, I’m at least going to try to piss on it to put it out.
It is ridiculous to accept our lot—especially if we believe it’s been divinely thrust upon us by an interfering deity.
- Is there any way I can share the weight of a particular responsibility with another person without hurting him or her, or coming across as a complete wimp?
Very often in my life, the box that needs to be carried into the house is much lighter when I ask a friend to help—but often I don’t, Because otherwise, how could I stumble into the room, breathless, screaming for someone to find a table where I can put it down?
There is great drama in believing that we are so important that some tribulation has purposely targeted us.
But for me, I’d rather sit on my big fat ass and think things through to a conclusion than try to find nobility in suffering.