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Joining Jesus in Gethsemane

Turning away from the registration desk, I searched for the elevator while juggling my bags. I had just checked in for a silent retreat, one I’d signed up for several months earlier. When registering I had pictured nothing but the peace and consolation that would come from escaping the busyness of life and spending time with Jesus. At that precise moment, however, I wanted only to locate my room and close the door before my tears betrayed me. Tears of heartache and sorrow. Tears of stress and exhaustion. Tears of anger and grief. There are pieces of my life that don't look as I envisioned long ago. There’s no one to blame, but these uninvited pieces are here to stay. I’ve told myself it doesn’t matter. After all, throwing a pity party won’t change things. In fact, it would require me to actually sit in the heartache I want to ignore. Besides, considering my hard feelings even briefly has filled me with shame, and acknowledging my sorrow takes time I simply don’t have. So, instead,

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