Poetry

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When fear grips my soul, it does not compare to the Cross.
When anxiety overcomes me, it does not compare to the Cross.
When stress fills my day, it does not compare to the Cross.
When my body is sick, it does not compare to the Cross.
When my head aches with tension, it does not compare to the Cross.
When fatigue beats me down, it does not compare to the Cross.

When I’m cut, it does not compare to the nails.
When I bleed, it does not compare to the thorns.
When I sweat, it does not compare to the drops in gethsemane.
When I feel alone, it does not compare to the Father turning his back on you.
When I cry, it does not compare to you crying out for all mankind.
When words cut me, it does not compare to the spear in your side.

When I love, it cannot compare to how you love.
When I give, it cannot compare to how much you have given.
When I help, it cannot compare to the way you have helped me.
When I praise you, it cannot come close to how much you deserve.

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