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When the weight of my cross starts eating into my flesh, when the price of following Christ seems too high, when life itself threatens my very sanity; who picks me up, who soothes me, who holds me still?
By The Dreaded ShrewWhen the weight of my cross starts eating into my flesh, when the price of following Christ seems too high, when life itself threatens my very sanity; who picks me up, who soothes me, who holds me still?