Do you feel a little broken?


I looked up to the sky when I entered the garden where he experienced agony. Although he probably experienced it all the way to the end.  

I stood there and wondered what he was thinking. The pressure he must have felt, to give his life, for people that were around him and to those that were yet to be. 

I stood there and looked up and saw the olive branches... up against the sky. And I thought “yeah he saw this same view” while beeds of blood came down his brow.

I imagined him looking up and having to swallow the reality of the situation.

I stood there and wondered why he acquainted himself with with my own agony... my own grief... my own sin.

I stood there and thought this “thing” I am currently going through is a mere sliver of the excruciating pain he had experienced.”

I got nothing on him. 

But yeah I feel a little broken... crushed. Like I’m suffocating under the weight of MY anger and pain. Anger fades, if I actually allow myself to feel it. If I actually allow myself permission to feel and own it. The trick is to not let any kind of false responsibility fall on me.

So I am owning my anger and the pain. Pain doesn’t fade as quickly. There’s no stop watch for pain. 

Feeling my pain and anger and disappointment and regret and all the emotions feels scary. Cause it feels like I’m going deep into a rabbit hole. But if I don’t feel then it comes out sideways. Which is better? I don’t know. But allowing myself to feel....  


The garden of agony.

It’s beautiful and it’s lonely.

When I walked these grounds I’m reminded of what was said in ancient writings.... 

 “He was looked down on passed over, a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. One look at him and people turned away. We looked down on him, thought he was scum. But the fact is It was our pains he carried— our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures. But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him— our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Through his bruises we get healed. We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost. We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way. And GOD has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong, on him, on him.”