the way of suffering.

Sophomore year.

The name of my blog has the word "joy" in it. And if I'm allowed to confess to you all, I've been struggling. I've been living with the absence of joy in this season of my life.

I have been swamped with stress. Between classes, the Rock, work and focusing on relationships, I'm exhausted. I feel like a mess, completely worn out most of the time. Is that an excuse?

A couple of weeks ago, I was sharing my story with a dear friend of mine. Whenever I reach a certain part of my story, I briefly touch on it and leave out bits and pieces. That part is usually the time frame  of the extreme joy in my family's life, specifically the Mediterranean cruise we went on. I have mentioned before that I usually shy away from this subject because I think some memories are too special to be shared. But as I told this friend of mine my story, I told a specific part of it that I never actually had said out loud before. Looking back, I think I was meant to share it to fully understand it myself.

One part of this excursion was two days spent in Israel. Yes, Israel. I remember my dad telling me during this trip that I should keep a journal for the end of each day and to prevent forgetting, write about all of the details that I am now struggling to remember. A few parts of this trip included putting our feet in the Jordan River, touching what was believed to be "the center of the world" and seeing the Via Dolorosa. The Via Dolorosa means "the way of grief" or "the way of suffering". The Via Dolorosa is a street that that was the path for Jesus, carrying his cross, on the way to his crucifixion.

By this point in my dad's life, he couldn't make it many places without assistance from his cane; his body was too weak. Whether it was getting on busses or walking on a moderate incline, he had his cane. And yes, he was in a lot of pain. But nothing was stopping him from seeing what was ahead and what he knew was promised to him at the end of it. It worked in terms of stations. The crucifixion path, and still today, had been made into 14 different stations, each station holding significance of Jesus' journey to the cross.

It's hard to fully grasp and conclude Jesus' emotions of that day all in my meaningless blog. But if I were to imagine, if we were to all imagine, the word that comes to my mind is peace. This man, in complete and utter suffering, continued on to make known his purpose.

When I think of this story, and the correlation between Jesus and us, I become emotional.

Jordan River

The center of the world?

Believed to be where Jesus was crucified. 

That day, I watched my dad struggle on that path of suffering. He didn't complain, nor did he wish to turn around. He kept going, as peace and joy flooded his mind.

As I look at how small my worries seem in my life now, I honestly feel silly. There will be stress and struggling in my life, specifically in this time of my life. So what? I have learned that if you dig yourself a hole of self-pity, you will fall into it. I have no need to complain or worry. 

For as I have heard the story of Jesus, and witnessed my father walking that path, they joyfully pressed on, completely at peace with the glory that was promised ahead.