Suffering

I know this is a bit serious, and I should be writing about the witty things my children say, but I wrote this a couple nights ago and wanted to share it. I hope it is encouraging to you.

My suffering seems so easy compared to my Savior’s. I remember repeatedly picturing Jesus in a manger, with itchy hay, and smelly animals breathing next to his sweet, newborn face. And then I see him watching his best friend deny him and another one betray him and then hanging on a cross for me and for Brian and for my boys and for all of you, His children. He suffered the dishonor of being born in a stable, with smelly animals, rather than a palace filled with gold, because He is God and is the only one with the power to save. He suffered the misunderstanding of family and friends, rather than support and encouragement and the faithfulness of a hometown, because He is God and is the only one with the power to save. He suffered the betrayal of a best friend, rather than loyalty and truthfulness, because He is God and he is the only one with the power to save. He suffered the mockery and abuse of a crowd, rather than belief and trust, because He is God and is the only one with the power to save. And most of all, He suffered separation from His Father, rather than comfort and home, in order to give us more than we can imagine, because He is God and He had to, in order for us to be saved.