I fell once, and the pain was great for me.
My foot swelled up, and, when I tried to walk, I winced with pain.
My foot, bruised, turned purple.
My foot, injured, swelled, so that I could not fit in my shoes.
I yelped in pain and refused to walk.
Jesus fell three times.
His feet, which carried Our Savior, were wounded and beaten.
His precious feet were bruised and swollen,
screamed in pain as they tried to bear the weight of Our God and His Cross of Love.
His sandals were gone.
Each step an exercise in pain,
but He uttered not a word.
He took His beatings.
He bore the pain.
His love for us,
His mission of Love,
bore the pain, the injustice, the brutal torture, the death on the cross.
Even when His own body betrayed Him for lack of blood,
for the pain He felt,
for the knowledge of what was finally going to end His life.
There was no one to wash and care for His feet as He walked the path of death.
There were no pain relievers to help Him bear His pain.
finally with the help of Simeon carrying the instrument of torture and death,
He walked with love for us.
He bore the weight of our sins as he suffered
He walked and fell three times.