We all have our crosses to bear. One of mine is my weight. "Simple to remedy," folks will say (judge). I try. I fail. Over and over from the time I was about 10. In shape.. out of shape... back into shape... back out of shape. I've grown weary from it all.
I often look at folks who are thin and can look good in whatever clothes they put on. They look so carefree. I envy a slim figure with a tank style tee and billowing linen pants. "God surely has favorites," I quip.
But my true heart knows and wonders what cross(es) must they bear? I suppose despite the fact that it is not something as conspicuous as mine, it must still be equally as painful. Their own private hell.
I guess it is summed up best in the meme I've seen going around many times... be nice to people, you never know what they are going through.
Anyhoodle, let's hold each other in prayer for strength - not only in carrying the obvious crosses, but for those we suffer in the most private chambers of our hearts
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Last line of this entry is absolute poetry. Well done!
Anyhoodle, let's hold each other in prayer for strength - not only in carrying the obvious crosses, but for those we suffer in the most private chambers of our hearts.
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