I bent low to gather the pointy rustic metal pieces throughout the space.
Just before someone has asked me how I was feeling?
In honesty, I had nothing positive to say--I could have uttered word of gratitude to renounce my misery but instead I exhaled.
I thought of Jesus on the cross, as I often do when my strength or will begins to fade and consider his suffering.
I am grateful for these gentle reminders that the God I serve is one with my suffering.
And more importantly the final result of his suffering was Freedom. Resurrection. Redemption.
That gives me hope.