falling for you

Station 7:  Jesus falls the Second time

“So he became their savior
in their every affliction.
It was not an envoy or a messenger,
but his presence that saved them.
Because of his love and pity
the LORD redeemed them,
Lifting them up and carrying them
all the days of old” Isaiah 63:8-9

“My heart shudders, my strength forsakes me; the very light of my eyes has failed” Psalm 38:11

On Friday I was doing my famous french braids on Ella, and due to my not always deft hands, and Ella’s very sensitive scalp, the subject of pain inevitably arose. She has become pretty obsessed with pain and fear of things hurting her as of late, and she asked me (for the millionth time that day) her favorite question.  “Why?”.  She wanted to know why things hurt.  I had no idea how to address this, so I just told her that’s part of being human, instead of trying to reach into the long-buried and, let's face it, very rusted vault of knowledge I obtained in anatomy and physiology class back in the day.  This was not a satisfactory answer for her, but I wasn’t sure if it was time to go into the fall of humanity and how suffering and pain are a result of man’s disobedience to God. Thus I went with some variation of "it hurts because it just does". My other favorite of this variety is the classic "because I said so". I feel like such a powerhouse fake mom when I say that.

It was scarcely 30 minutes after this conversation that I was in the kitchen cooking my speciality (hamburgers on a gluten free bun with from-a-bag gluten free fries on the side thank you very much). Ella yells at me to pretend that I hadn’t seen the outfit (i helped pick out) that she was sporting (she was quite pleased with it apparently) when she came down the stairs again, and to plan my extremely impressed reaction to said outfit accordingly.  

There I was, ready to give an oscar winning performance of the new hit series coming to you this fall “Nanny Surprised by Cute Things”, when instead I was greeted by a very foreboding tumble and crash and bones-blamming-wooden-floors sound.  I waited for the scream that was delayed by the shock of pain she had just received, but come that scream most certainly did.  I ran spatula in hand and joined her on the floor, where she was curled up and writhing in pain.  I did my best to pull her to me and cradle her, and though she was in a good amount of pain she found it in her to cry out between pitiful sobs “Why does it hurt? Why?”, and then another favorite question of hers: “Has this happened to you before?”.  

This poor little girl wanted so desperately to understand the why and wherefore of this pain, and know that she was not alone in this experience. She wanted to be reassured that she was not the only one that has felt these things before.  I assured her I had done something just like it and that pretty much anyone who ever goes down stairs eventually takes a tumble down them.  “Why?”, was her predictable response.  

She grew a third, very protuding, eye in the middle of her forehead.  I thought of cyclops, but kept that charming reference to myself.  I held her as I flipped burning burgers, and did my best to console the wounded child in my arms.  Her tears surprisingly quickly subsided as I let her lay on the couch holding a makeshift ice pack to her swelling bump. I tried to speak words of comfort as I attempted to salvage what was left of the blackened meat, once so full of promise.  

There is some suffering that we let slide by, like stubbing a toe, or burning a finger on a cake fresh from the oven, but there are other times when suffering is so intense and painful, we cry out to God “Why? Why this pain?”.  For a 4-year-old, it takes blamming her head on a wooden floor to ask such questions, but as we get accustomed to those sorts of pains as being part of life, we are able to move on without ruffling our feathers too much.  It is not until we are accosted by suffering that seems to make absolutely no sense, that the “Why?” seems to go unanswered, and it seems God has abandoned us.

I have wondered why there are three stations dedicated to Jesus falling for us during His agonizing walk to the hill where He would be crucified.

Isn’t once enough to contemplate our Savior pitifully falling to the ground, exhausted and seemingly abandoned?  I have realized after ruminating over this question that it is for each of us that there are 3 falls. We need them.  As Jesus did everything else in His life and death, this fall was for us.  Not only to give another example of His infinite Love for us, but to show that it is normal to fall under the weight of life’s crosses.  He fell, too.  

And it is normal to ask “Why?”.  He asked God why, too.

The second time He collapses under the weight of His Cross reminds us that it is normal to fall again.  To be going along fine after you got up from the last fall, only to meet another challenge or cross that makes us stumble and fall, even harder, once more.  


He wanted to remind us that we are not alone in our sufferings and pain.  He suffered, too.  He fell, too.  He knew that we would want to know that we weren’t alone in our suffering.  Like little Ella, we want to know that we aren’t the first.  That someone knows how we feel and can share in the suffering and understand just how painful it really is.  


It is so human to desire connection and companionship in every aspect of our life journey.  Especially suffering.  For that is when we feel most alone, and thus need most to know that we are never alone.

He reminds us of that in this seventh station.  We are never alone.  When we feel we have fallen so low and that we have not a friend in the world, He knows exactly how we feel, but to an even more intensely painful degree.  He came so that we would never feel alone in our pain.  He came so that death would not have victory.  He came that we might have life and have it more abundantly (John 11:11).  

“Because he himself was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested”  Hebrews 2:18

Sometimes there is suffering so painful, we may never be satisfied by any attempted explanation.  We may have to wait until we meet the Lord to know the “why”.  I felt that way very much as I watched my beloved Mimi die a very painful death.  No answer, no matter how theologically sound, was satisfactory.  At that point, my only consolation was that Jesus was willing to feel every pain and sorrow Mimi, my Mom and our family were experiencing.  He left Heaven, paradise, and willingly walked into a suffering I wanted nothing more than to escape.  All so that in those dark moments, when nothing made sense, I knew He was there.  

And that He knew exactly how I felt.


He wants to help us up every time we fall. He is there, He knows how it feels, and He will never ever leave us or forsake us.

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden light" Matthew 11:28-30