No One Bears a Cross Like Me – A Lamentation

13th May 2014

No one bears a cross like me; I might as well have been nailed to that tree

With Jesus, for my body feels near dead, but my will is alive. Oh, for how much longer can I survive?

‘Tis the 13th of May and some 27 years have passed since Mary left me, alone to last til she returns, to reaffirm my past.

How much longer must I endure, waiting endlessly for her cure?

Will she come? I can only guess! I have tried my best to confess… prayers and blessings I have procured, in the hope I can be cured by priests, pilgrimage, pleas and admissions. By these I’ve begged  heaven to hear my petitions!

No one bears a cross like me… none throughout all of history.

No human torment can compare with the thought that I have been called to share – the Woman of the Apocalypse, unbelievably rare – a call no one could dream dare, but in all events, will you even care?

The 13th May will always be the great reminder of what I was called to be – to be her “Mary”, in whatever shape or form she chooses me to be. And so once again I endlessly offer myself to her as her emissary – when will she act? How much longer does she think I can last? Time is now running out for me quite fast!

My back near broke, my neck and my hips, my shoulders and the mucus in the throat give me heaps. I am crumbling so early with degenerative changes, I hope the Lord has mercy and manages to use me to his advantage before I am physically useless. I pray that I am able to take on His challenges.

What they will be? Only God has in mind – I have a fair inkling but they need to be soon – if not then, I have been a total buffoon – to believe what was told me so many years ago and still act and believe on it, and refuse to let go!

No, I cannot be told that it’s not true, that my destiny was not sent by God for you – until my dying breath is o’er, and only then could I be proved a liar. But even I liar I shall not be, for I proclaimed in all honesty, that I was the chosen one in the end that the Lord had sent to be your signpost, your protector, mother and friend.

Please believe me when this comes to pass, when all your dreams end up like grass. Please call on Mary and her Son, and when you do, remember me who played a part, in bringing them to you in such agony.

No one has borne a cross like me – when my time comes, will you believe in me?            

Robyn