We suffered a grave disappointment on Friday, and still we are not quite over it. True sadness, once it settles in our home, seems to hang in the air for quite some time before it dissipates and leaves room for brighter sentiments.
I found a bit of consolation while reading Wittingshire’s Sunday Poem. The complete poem is His Savior’s Words, Going to the Cross by Robert Herrick. I also appreciated the editorial comments:
Jesus drank the bitter cup of God’s eternal wrath against sin. But he left a little for us to drink. That is, each one of us has to endure our own portion of suffering so that we might never forget what it meant for Jesus to suffer. Our small sufferings should remind us of his great suffering for us.
1 Comment