“. . . whosoever doth not carry his cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple.”

Sooner or later, we all have our own cross to bear. The way in which we bear it determines whether or not it has redemptive value.

One of the striking things about church ministry is the number volunteers who feel called to help others through the very struggles they, too, have experienced. It may have been spousal abuse, job loss, bankruptcy, divorce, depression, anxiety, loss of a loved one, sickness and injury, or some other crushing cross.

Somehow, some way, they managed to survive the experience and learn from it. Their greatest pain became their greatest gain. They grew emotionally and spiritually. They acquired new coping skills, new self-confidence, new faith in God’s plan for their life. In their recovery, they learned the value of patience and endurance. They became more compassionate and able to see new ways to help others.

They found a purpose in their pain. They chose to use their cross as an instrument of grace.

Those who have felt the weight of a cross, who have walked their own Via Della Rosa, know what it means to be forlorn and forsaken, forced to live with fear. They’re able to empathize with others and minister to them, helping them see past the pain. In the midst of uncertainty, they act as mentors and exhorters, and by their witness show that this, too, shall pass. They visit the homebound and sick; join 12-step programs; volunteer at crisis centers; drive for Meals on Wheels; and minister to the needy in numerous creative ways.

Yes, we all have our cross to bear. But life presents each one of us with opportunities to turn our grief to grace.

Isn’t this what Saint Paul meant when he wrote, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort;  who comforteth us in all our affliction, that we may be able to comfort them that are in any affliction, through the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.?” (2 Corinthians 1:4)