The following post is an excerpt from the March/April 2010 issue of Canticle Magazine. One Lent, I discovered a Stations of the Cross from Mary’s viewpoint. Athough heartbreaking, I found them to be strangely comforting. Ever since, I’ve always felt that the Stations of the Cross is a devotion that speaks in a special way to women. My prayer for you is that this “Way of the Cross for Women” may speak to your heart and lead you closer to our Lord! The First Station: Pilate Condemns Jesus to Death Jesus has blood dripping in His eyes. His garments are a mockery and His disciples reduced to a tattered band. And now He is sentenced to death. My hopes seem just as shattered. I’m longing...for a child, a husband, a companion. I find myself alone, feeling the pronouncement of death over my head after being beaten with the scourge of longing, wanting, desire. Where is my hope? Why can’t I experience the joy of motherhood? Must I remain single so long? Won’t anyone – my family, my friends, my fellow church members - come visit me during my long, lonely days? I look to Jesus and see a comrade. Jesus, help me as I face my loneliness. The Second Station: Jesus Accepts His Cross Jesus took up His Cross. Under its heaviness, He must have thought of me. I feel the weight of my vocation on my shoulders, whether it’s marriage or motherhood, single life or religious life. I don’t always think of the daily challenges as opportunities for grace. Can I tell Him about my cross? Can I pick it up and accompany Him? He shows me how to use the crosses of my vocation as a gateway to grow closer to His Father. Jesus, guide me as I struggle to carry my cross. The Third Station: Jesus Falls the First Time How did He get back up? How did He start walking again? The addictions in my life crush me with their weight. It might be as simple as an addiction to computer time, or it may be a struggle with a substance. Though others might laugh if they knew of my struggle, I feel its heaviness on me. I’m blindsided by the fall. Some of my addictions seem trivial, but they pile up, unnoticed, unattended. They all lead me away from God, taking my eyes away from Him. When my addictions seem too much, let me remember Jesus on the ground beneath the Cross, after the first of three falls. Jesus, pull me back up when I’ve fallen to addiction. The Fourth Station: Jesus Meets His Mother I gaze at loved ones who suffer from illness, and I think of Jesus and Mary meeting. I pray, but cannot make the pain go away. I have to let go of what I want and even of what others want and accept what God wants. Maybe the health issues are my own, and I long, as Jesus must have, to protect those I love from the pain, heartache, and burden. Jesus, let me feel Your gaze as I bear the Cross of poor health. The Fifth Station: Simon Helps Carry the Cross The soldiers forced Simon to help carry the Cross. Jesus didn’t argue; He accepted help at the height of His Passion. I’ve turned down offers of help. I insist that I can do it by myself. How might I accept help in the midst of my busy life? In what ways can I allow someone else to serve Jesus as they help me with my Cross? Do I need to ask for help? Jesus, show me how to accept help with my Cross, just as You accepted help from Simon. The Sixth Station: Veronica Offers Her Veil to Jesus Jesus was filthy and pathetic as He staggered, not even able to carry His own Cross. Veronica offered a part of herself so that Jesus might have some comfort. Who are the people I have the hardest time reaching out to? Who do I have trouble picturing as Jesus? Which of those can I offer my “veil” to? Jesus, show me where I can serve You and how I can wash the face of the weary. The Seventh Station: Jesus Falls the Second Time Abuse can be like Jesus’ second fall. Maybe it’s a loved one’s substance abuse or perhaps I’ve been abused myself. Just like Jesus, I’m crushed under the pain. Jesus feels my humiliation and knows the drained hopelessness hanging over me. Holding His hand, I can get back up. Walking with Him, I can bear the weight of abuse and give it to Him. Jesus, carry me when the abuses are too heavy to bear. The Eighth Station: Jesus Speaks to the Women Jesus paused to acknowledge and comfort the mourners. Jesus will comfort me if I let Him. When my “things done” list falls short, let me remember that guilt is not a virtue. When I’m staggering under a load that’s too heavy, let me feel relief at unloading it. When I am tempted to compare myself with others, let me pause to take Jesus’ hand. Jesus, protect me from the snares of guilt and comfort me as I struggle with day-to-day life. The Ninth Station: Jesus Falls the Third Time He can barely move after the third fall. Was Jesus tempted to give up? It must have felt easier to just stay on the ground. Somehow, He found the strength to get back up. I fall under the weight of the busy-ness in my life. There’s so much I’m supposed to do. I think I should be able to do it all. I find myself lying there, longing to give up. Show me, Jesus, what’s essential, and guide me in simplifying my life. The Tenth Station: Jesus is Stripped Jesus did not ask “Why?” Jesus did not shy away from suffering. He embraced it so that when He embraces me, I know just how well He understands. Injustice is sometimes so all encompassing that I don’t think I can handle it. Sometimes my suffering is too much and my whole body slumps, weary. It is then that I most need Jesus, stripped and facing His Cross. Jesus, embrace me and teach me to bear injustice and suffering. The Eleventh Station: Jesus Is Nailed to the Cross Everything else fades in the face of this new pain, and then the symphony of agony resumes. I add to Jesus’ pain with my unkind words. I feel that I have to tell it as I see it, not considering how much hurt I’ll inflict. Would I be more patient if I were more loving? Would I be more loving if I were more patient? Jesus, as I gaze at the nails in Your hands and feet, help me remember the sharp edge of my words and impatience. The Twelfth Station: Jesus Dies on the Cross For Jesus, the hardest part is over. But for me, death is so hard. Maybe it is a child, a parent, a spouse, a friend, a family member – they have died and left me here. What can I do? Where can I turn? Mary understands this feeling well. She gazes at me, remembering how it was to stand at the foot of the Cross. She points to the pain and holds me. In her clasp, I feel stronger arms, His arms. Jesus, hold me in my grief. The Thirteenth Station: Jesus is Taken Down from the Cross They placed Him in Mary’s arms, the boy she birthed and nursed, the man she followed, the Son she loved. I have the gift and responsibility of femininity in my domestic church, whether it houses children or adults, friends or family, colleagues or strangers. For the road of pain in my spiritual and physical motherhood, there will also be the miracle of life all around me. Jesus, as I struggle with my motherhood, guide me to the comfort of Your mother. The Fourteenth Station: Jesus is Placed in the Tomb As Mary bathed and arranged Jesus, were memories of His life surrounding her? I have held loved ones, saying goodbye long after they’re gone. I’ve left the tomb but carried the pain with me. Mary left her Son with a faith I need to emulate. She never stopped trusting, even when hope seemed gone. God’s grace works through the pain in the valley of my suffering. Mary holds my hand and leads me, with surefire accuracy, straight to her Son. Jesus, help me not to bury my hopes as I face the suffering of life.  Sarah Reinhard explores faith, family, and farm life at http://snoringscholar.com/.