For years you avoided making any kind of commitment, no matter how trivial, because you understood the gravity of the thing. You did not pick up the weight because you might drop it and even if you didn’t you would have to carry it for life.
In a giddy fit of romanticism though, you broke with convention. You – starry eyed – declared you would carry most heavy burdens for Him for ever. You would do it all because He would be there to support you. He would give you the strength. You knew that with His help you could do it.
After the promise was made, you wavered. “Where is He?” you asked, “will He not help me bear this Cross?”
And at the wayside, there stood another. Weaker, denser, full of fear and self doubt. “Help me” he cried.
“Are you there?” you shouted to Him. Silence.
So you put down the Cross and crossed to tend the wounded. It gave you much joy – but the Cross remained, lying tattered and battered in the road. You regret dragging it this far, you regret it sitting there, taunting you, reminding you of promises broken.
“I will never leave you alone” you tell him. But now you know what you are capable of betraying, and you fear it.