Too Tough
“The road is too rough,” I said, “Dear Lord, there are stones that hurt me so.” And He said, “Dear child, I understand, I walked it long ago.”
“But there’s a cool green path,” I said; “Let me walk there for a time.” “No child,” He gently answered me, “The green path does not climb.”
“My burden,” I said, “Is far too great, How can I bear it so?” “My child,” He said, “I remember the weight; I carried My cross, you know.”
But I said, “I wish there were friends with me Who would make my way their own.” “Oh, yes,” He said, “Gethsemane Was hard to bear alone.”
And so I climb the stony path, Content at last to know That where my Master had not gone, I would not need to go.
And strangely then I found new friends, The burden grew less sore; And I remember—long ago He went that way before.
Olga J. Weiss
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