If you're going to help someone carry their cross, then do it. Don't instruct, criticize and tell them how to carry it. Otherwise, move on!

Ok, THIS will hopefully be my last post for a while, but wow, I need to get something off my chest!

By the title, you probably already know what is coming. I've tried to hold this back but no can do. I have to say this!

It is not really about diabetes. It's about suffering in general. My very great pet peeve (other than people not replying to emails) is when people get impatient with others for something they are going through.

Something happened on Facebook that started all this but to avoid going into a huge long story, let's just say that a person commented on a post that I thought to be an inspiration and wrote a very long critical comment about it. The conversation continued peacefully through personal messaging when she apologized for her critical comment (after I took the post down, I felt like I had been "scolded" and on top of that, her comment was public) but she didn't back down from her point saying that too many people make diabetics out to be weak, they can do anything, blah blah blah. On top of that, she said, "I guess you and I just have different attitudes about diabetes. I don't like it when people make their diabetes out to be an illness or a cross. I like people who are inspirational and strong."

Wow. This really hurt. I mean, really, really hurt. And I'm sorry but I need to throw it out there--I've never made Max's autism out to be a weakness or something to pity him for. If anything, I'm constantly fighting the system and trying to let him learn to be more independent and "just Max", not autism.

First of all, I considered this person to be "my Simeon".  She has T1D and her daughter does too. However, she grew up with it and is very familiar with it. It wasn't just plopped onto her lap one day out of the blue. I trusted her to understand this huge change I was going through. And because of one little video about diabetes, she thinks I'm trying to get pity?? I thought this little girl in the video very inspirational, I loved how she didn't care about her diabetes (but still took care of it very responsibly for her age.) I loved that she continued to live her life.

I think considering, I've done pretty well with dealing with all this. Have I never cried, whined or felt sorry for myself? Nope. I have. Who cares. Haven't you?

Crosses in general are very hard! We don't always carry them very well. We flounder at times, we might even throw it on the ground at times. We might sit there and look at our cross but refuse to acknowledge it.

God doesn't give us crosses to  pat ourselves on the back and say, "Look how STRONG I am! Look how well I can carry this cross! Look at me everyone, THIS IS HOW YOU CARRY A CROSS!"

He gives us a cross to remind us how weak we are, and how much we need His help to carry it---and learn to carry it well. It is not about dragging the cross behind us, it's learning how to make it a part of our lives, be crucified on it, hang on it, surrender to it.

One day, just a few days after Max's diagnosis, the second staion of the Way of the Cross caught my eye: Jesus takes up His cross. In our church, this station shows Jesus looking at His cross. And it hit me. In order to carry it, FIRST, you have to acknowledge it. You have to accept it, the weight of it, the splinters, the heaviness of it. And then you have to acknowledge yourself: I am weak, can I carry this? It looks so heavy. How far/long will I need to carry this cross? Will someone help me?

Being given a cross ultimately will bring us holiness and perhaps even joy, but first there must be suffering. And before the suffering, there has to be humility. The ultimate reason for a cross is to humble ourselves, bring us to our knees and acknowledge that we need God! THIS is what I have found in this new trial in my life.

Will it always be so heavy? I have no idea!!! But I won't ever sit there patting myself on the back, showcase my cross and brag like proud Pharasee that said, "I thank You, God, that I am not like those other people..." (Luke 19:9) I rather be like the poor sinner who said "O God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" I hope I have not been so judemental and harsh in others suffering. I hope I haven't raised myself up, congratulating myself for my great acheivements in suffering with such courage with no acknowledment to God who made me strong enough to bear it , because God will surely knock me down a notch if I'm lucky. I rather be humbled now, rather than do it all in Purgatory.

I don't mind being weak in front of others. I don't mind asking for help and prayers. I acknowledge my weakness. That's why I ask for help.

But to those who think they are "helping" someone by being a Simeon, watch yourself. Don't be such a hero. God did not have you step in to carry their cross, instruct them how to do it, criticize how they are holding it/carrying it. Those people are no better than the soilders who kicked and pushed Jesus to get back up every time He fell.

Be a Simeon. Who silently took the cross and carried it without a word. We are called to be there for people, wait for them to come out of their darkness but most of all, to pray for them!

If you know they are floundering, feeling sorry for themselves, or just being pathetic, then let them know you are there if they want to talk but leave it at that! Unless they are doing something morally wrong such as neglecting their family because of their sorrow, then just pray for them.

Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was. (Job 2:13)


Once in a while, people ask if they can do anything for me. My answer: Just be like Job's family. They did it right. They were there for him but they didn't criticize him or condemn him for his sorrow. They were there but they were silent.

And like I said, this isn't just about diabetes. I have seen this treatment from so many people throughout my life. Sometimes it is me who has suffered and been treated like this and other times I have watched how others treated someone in their weakness and suffering. They seem to detest the person, leave them to themselves and wait for them to be in a better mood. That isn't love.

St.Catherine of Siena took care of a woman who was covered in leporasy and verbally abused Catherine. This woman was bitter and angry and took it all out on Catherine. In her eyes, nothing Catherine did was right or good enough. And yet, even though she had every reason to leave this woman to herself, she kept coming back to make sure she died a good death. And after this woman died, Catherine's leporasy disappeared. That's love.

Another woman she took care of had a disgusting abcess that began to rot inside her body. The smell was so overwhelming that Catherine naturally was repelled by it. Disgusted with her reaction, she took the bowl of drainage from this woman's abcess and drank it. It automatically turned into something delicious, and from that moment on, God rewarded Catherine by never allowing her to be repelled by illnesses or smells again.

I know we can't do it as well as the saints can but I believe the way to sainthood is learning how to suffer well--not just to suffer. When I first began to grieve over this enormous change in our lives--this change from a healthy carefree childhood to constant monitoring and being cautious--I wanted to handle it with courage, smiling, showing everyone how strong I was. I wanted to be an example--as this woman had mentioned she looks up to and admires--but I couldn't. And God didn't want that anyway.

Instead, I carried my cross with weakness, at times crying for help from both from heaven and earth. I didn't carry it the way I would have liked.

But I carried it (and still am) I hope, with humility, because this is what my cross is for. Not to be strong or admired but to remember how much I need God.

Please everyone, let's be merciful to one another. Let's watch our words and actions to one another. Let's keep our critical and impatient comments to ourselves.

Otherwise, please, just move on.