I wear my crown of thorns better than the rest of you. I carry forth my sins surrounded by the thousands of saints before me. Because we are all saints, afraid of being sinners. Losing ourselves in this righteous need to be better. Even in our quest of righteousness, we forget that we can still be sinners. We can still fail in the smallest wonders of our need to be great. I forget at times that I can’t always be right, but everyone can’t always point out my wrongs. I may not always be right, but I am not always wrong.
My selfish nature gets the best of me. This constant need to want all the wrong things. Searching through the faces of my wrongs and coming up empty handed. I see these saints with their wooden crosses glued across their chests. Waiting patiently for me to fail, fall, and point out all my wrong doings. I am just one person. Just one person with a life full of sins and a lifetime of making up to do. It doesn’t take a day to build Rome, but takes more than a few words to break down a spirit. I could spend a lifetime changing my ways but its the past that comes back to haunt me. Its my past that doesn’t allow the present to shine through. Its the errors of my ways that allows the countless saints to come forth to “save” me. I don’t need to be saved. I don’t need anything. When its my sins that are counted against me.
Its in this life that I feel like a lost cause. That even praying to St. Jude himself wouldn’t save me. That lighting a thousand candles wouldn’t grant me this one miracle. Cleansing this life clean and washing this slate a thousand times over. Starting over would only bring forth the saints to chase after me with their righteousness. Because everyone else is always right. Its the saints with their fear in the wrong that causes them to believe in their own perfection. Maybe I just need to pretend with the rest of them. Wear my wooden cross glued across my chest to point out the sins of the sinners freely. Even I can’t hide behind a wooden cross. Even saints can be sinners.
St. Jude, I pray to thee to save me from my hopelessness. It’s this life thats a lost cause that needs to be found again. This crown of thorns that has become to unbearable to wear. Its with your will that will help my hopelessness. Its with this power that will cleanse this slate clean. I may not always right, but I know I am not always wrong.
I just wish others saw it too.