This morning as I was sitting in the pew praying, I was struck by how much I was aching. My shoulders ache so much that it was hard to put on my shirt this morning. My chest feels as if I was in a car wreck. You know that seatbelt bruise, which causes the ribs to feel like they are going to pop, but they never do? I have this nerve thing with my feet that sometimes it feels like they are on fire. That’s been constant for a while now.
I kept looking up at the crucifix over the altar, and I had this sense that Jesus was watching me. I didn’t think of the words. They were in there in my cluttered, brain fogged mind, though. Why me? A phrase that so often means: what did I do to deserve this? I go to church, I’ve answered your call, I give when I can. I pray. I try to love others. I go to confession. Why me?
For just a moment, it was as if Jesus looked at me from the cross and said, “You’re saying it wrong.” I needed to hear that. A person having a pity party complains about their pain, those nagging afflictions that make life hard to appreciate. The suffering servant, the victim soul, the redemptive sufferer; they say why me as well. They say, why would you choose me, Lord, to draw near to you on the cross?
The words expressed by both kinds of people are almost identical—the difference is gratitude. One says why me in sorrow, the other in joy. The first complaints of the pains and aches, the other marvels at what Jesus went through for them. Those who fail to see God push Him away, seeking to find relief in anything they can. The sinner on the road to sainthood tries to embrace this glimpse into calvary to be more like Christ, more like our savior.
When I first started exploring the Catholic faith, I hated the words “offer it up.” I’m just now beginning to see what those words mean. I’m definitely not there yet. I still complain and groan, looking for the pain medicine far too quickly. In fact, I didn’t want to write this blog today. I think God wanted me to because someone else out there probably needs to hear it too.