I went to the Lord in prayer and begged for help to bear my cross. “I can’t do this any more, Lord,” I said. “It’s too much for me. I’m not strong enough.”
“Come with me,” the Lord replied, “and I will help you.” The Lord led me into a huge building filled with crosses. Room after room held them, farther than I could see.
“Look around, and take your time,” the Lord said. “These are the crosses that the people of the earth must bear. You may exchange your cross for any other one that you like.”
“Really?” I asked, filled with relief. “I can choose a different one?”
“Of course,” He replied. “I will never give you a burden that you can’t carry.”
I wandered through the building, but all the crosses looked frighteningly large and heavy. Some were made of iron or stone, some had sharp spikes. I wondered who carried all these crosses, but I knew that mine was as heavy as any of them. Finally, off in a corner, on top of a pile of huge granite crosses, I saw a small wooden one. I picked it up, and was overjoyed to find how light it was. I could easily lift it with one hand.
“May I have this one?” I asked.
“Are you sure?” asked the Lord.
“Oh, yes,” I assured him. “This is the one I want.”
“My child,” said the Lord with a patient smile. “That is the cross you came in with.”